Coulrophobia
by Wood.White
Summary: Moving away from North Carolina to some boring town in the middle of nowhere in Maine was an idea she loathed entirely, but being chased by a psychotic clown along with a group of so-called 'losers' in said town is just not happening, right? Turns out fate has a different plan in mind, however. (IT 2017)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _IT_** **( _All hail Stephen King!)_**

 **This takes place in the 2017 remake of it.**

 **Blog:** _www . Wood - White - Writer . Tumblr . com_

 **Cassandra Hayes' appearance: Taissa Farmiga**

 **Nathaniel Richardson's appearance: Evan Peters**

 **Claudia Hayes' appearance: Carla Gugino**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: A little Knowledge is a Dangerous Thing**

* * *

"If one thing's for certain, I've had it with clowns to last a lifetime or two," Cassie mumbled sourly as she and her friend at the time, Nathan, stepped out of the circus tent with a bag of popcorn in each hand, feeling both drowsy and energized simultaneously due to the amount of cotton candy they had consumed during the course of the show. It was not often a small town such as Asheville to get visited by a traveling circus. "Seriously, whoever came up with the concept of those goddamn masks should've been given a life sentence in prison."

"Always so negative, Cassie," said Nathan jokingly and nudged her playfully in her ribs with his elbow, but instantly stopped when she sent a killer-glare his way to warn him about keeping it up. He held both of his arms up in defense, struggling to keep the popcorn-bag in his grasp for a second. "Hey, all I'm saying is that maybe you should adopt a different approach towards them. You have to give them credit, though, clowns do have a certain whimsical comedy about them."

"True," she amended and threw her empty cotton candy cone in the closest dustbin she could find, wiping whatever was left around her lips with the hem of her sleeve. "But I've never been fond of them regardless. There's just something awfully eerie about them I don't like. Probably because of that one douchebag in primary school who thought it would be funny to jump at me with a clown mask in the hallways." Yes, she recalled what had happened eight years ago in primary school. Edgar Middleton, a real A-class jackass back in primary school, had somehow gotten the brilliant idea that frightening one of his classmates on Halloween would totally benefit him with enough entertainment to last him the rest of the year.

It angered her the fact that she was not able to outlive that moment of embarrassment for a single day on Halloween, but it angered her, even more, to know that she was unable to pay the asshole back for his good deed. Sucker moved away from town before she could properly provide him with a good payback. It was six years ago since he left, but she was never capable of letting go of that grudge. Because of some stupid prank, she despised what should really have been the personifications of happiness and laughter.

"You're a big girl, Cassie," Nathan said as if he was pacifying a child throwing a tantrum, and needless to say, she didn't enjoy being treated like one. "I'm sure there's no such thing as monstrous clowns lurking around, waiting to kill you once you let your guard down." It didn't take a second guess to see through his antics, and with a quick punch to his shoulder, she let him know that she knew what he was up to.

"You're not exactly helping, dumbass," she snorted. "I'm not afraid of clowns, I just can't stand to look at them. There's a difference."

"Yeah, sure," he replied sarcastically and rubbed the arm she had just hit like a hammer had just collapsed against his skin. Although it didn't hurt as much as it could've, he could still feel it tingle beneath his skin. "Just know that Maine isn't as lighthearted as North Carolina."

"Meaning?" She furrowed an eyebrow skeptically at what he was insinuating about

He snickered mischievously and lightly pinched her cheek. "If you ever feel scared at your new place then don't hesitate to call me. Big, manly Nathaniel Richardson will save yo- _OW_!" Before he even had the audacity to finish his cheeky line, Cassie grabbed a hold of the finger on her cheek and bent it backward, causing him to yelp in pain and squeeze his eyes shut. "ALRIGHT, I GET IT!"

She sighed and let go, and he immediately began to check his fingers for any severe injuries, as idiotic as it looked like. If there was one thing she knew about her friend by seven years, it was that Nathaniel Richardson never passed the opportunity to mess with her regardless of the occasion However, it seemed like he was doing more of that now that she was about to move from Asheville with her parents. Perhaps his way of saying 'I'll miss your sorry ass' or something?

As far as both she and the rest of the town were concerned, Cassie and Nathan were never anything beyond friends, so heartbreak was out of the question as it that was never an achievable option. Evidently, there had been times where people got the wrong impression of them and just assumed that they were a thing, which they most certainly were not. Either way, now that she was moving away with her parents to another state, rumors would no longer be of her concern, not that she cared anyhow about what people said.

"So," he asked as he regained his equanimity and straightened up again, casually walking up to her. "When were you leaving again?"

She was easily able to detect the sadness at the back of his words, as much as he wanted to keep them concealed. She wouldn't lie, she was going to miss the idiot tremendously; he was perhaps the only person in the entire town she could stand, not including her parents in the category. Claudia and Jeffery Hayes were as far from being the ideal sorts of parents as could possibly get, but at least she knew where she kept her personal purses in time of need. Being a self-proclaimed politician did little to support the family financially, but her father was, through some miraculous way, able to get a real job as a member of the disciplinary committee in some town in the middle of nowhere in Maine called Derry. Her mother had been less than zealous about moving away from her supposed 'friends', who were really just a bunch of simplistic women in need of occasional gossip in the small town, but she eventually bit into the fact that they did not have many options left and thus begrudgingly agreed to it.

Cassie exhaled through her nose and looked at him with pitiful eyes. "Two weeks before summer vacation,"

"But that's, like, next week!" He exclaimed incredulously, earning himself a raised eyebrow from her as a reaction from his exasperated one.

"Exactly," she nodded bitterly. "So we don't get to spend a lot of time together like this again. I suppose my parents will be forcing me to use the time we have left to pack all of our belongings, so if we wanna hang out then I'll probably have to sneak out or something."

"It's nothing you haven't done before," he laughed weakly and ruffled her hair, messing it up more than it already was. She pulled herself out of her grip and tried her best to look angry at him, but not even she could admit that she wouldn't miss her time like this.

"True," she agreed and punched him in the arm again.

"Now, let's go to McDonald's. I've worked out quite the appetite just talking about something so depressing."

"Wiser words have never been spoken, my friend,"

She chortled and fixed her messy hair to at least look more presentable than she currently did prior. "But I swear, Nathan, you're gonna get fat soon if you keep pulling all of those burgers and fries."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure, but I'm not going there just because of the food," and he flashed her yet another grin, alarming her about something she knew she would dislike. He had a tendency to do that whenever he was pulling her leg for fun.

"What do you..." At second thought, she felt tempted to punch him again upon figuring out what he was scheming with. "You ass. It's because of that damn clown, isn't it?" Yes, her aversion towards clowns escalated towards even Ronald McDonald himself.

Seeing him start to laugh caused her to start chasing him across the local park they had just arrived at, ignoring entirely how demented they looked like to any of the joggers or dog walkers around the place. "You asshole!" And she kept chasing after him all over the place, through the playground and around the pond, but she was never able to reach him. On the contrast of Nathan, who was tall and lean despite all of those sugar-filled donuts he munched on a daily basis, Cassie was short and, due to being skinny for her age, lacked muscle mass and was not exceptionally athletic, meaning P.E was her least favorite subject of the bunch except math.

"Admit it, Cassie," he snickered back at her as he consistently outran her until finally reached the bridge across the pond, pausing for a slight moment to regain his breathing. The wood beneath him began creaking upon acknowledging his weight and few chips fell down into the pond, letting out low and inaudible plopping-sounds from the impact. After steadying himself and catching his breath, he turned to look at Cassie, who had just reached the handrail of the bridge and was slowly approaching him, gasping for air like she had just run a marathon or two. He laughed and took a couple of steps back further onto the bridge, opening his arms as if expecting to be embraced by someone. "You know you love me."

"Smug bastard," she spoke in-between breaths, but the smile didn't leave her lips. With the assistance of the handrail, she managed to pull herself up to a straight position and slowly continued to stalk towards him, feeling a bit tempted to push him down into the water to show him who's boss. Instead, she took a deep breath and flashed a sincere smile to him. "I'm gonna miss this."

He scratched the back of his head and lowered his shoulders, smiling as well. "So am I."

But almost in an instant, before he was able to do anything to prevent it, Cassie charged towards him, energy regained, with high velocity and prepared to chase after him again, not intending on giving up their little game of Tag yet. "That's why I'm gonna enjoy it while I still am able to!"

However, just as she was about to reach for him, the wood beneath her began to creak again, much louder than the previous time, and before either of them were able to react towards what was happening, Cassie felt entire body fall through the collapsed part of the bridge and straight into the pond beneath them, still unable to properly react before the water soaked all of her entire being and pulled her down beneath surface.

She didn't really panic at first and she didn't know why. There was really no reason for her to fear dying at the moment, as moronic as it seemed. It didn't feel cold beneath the water, nor did it feel dangerous. No oxygen entered or left her lungs but it didn't hurt her in any way. It was as if her body had been trapped in a frozen state in the water, and the sight of the illuminating setting sun from above made every inch of it seem like the part of a beautiful daydream.

Suddenly, something blocked her sight from the surface, something small but at the same time significantly visible to her. She blinked a couple of times and furrowed her eyes in an attempt to get a hold of what it was.

 _A turtle_. It was a turtle. She was unable to distinguish what kind of turtle it was because of the darkened water, but there was something about its presence which soothed her. Turtles in North Carolina weren't uncommon, especially during the warmer seasons such as summer, but she had never really paid any attention to them until now. The turtle gracefully floated before her eyes, poking its head out of its shell as if to get a closer look at her.

Stretching her arm forth, she attempted to reach for it, feeling suddenly tempted to touch it. However, before she was able to, she felt something pull her up by the neck of her shirt and away from the small creature, making her feel slightly disappointed for having just missed the opportunity. As soon as her face reached the surface, Cassie took a deep breath and began to cough harshly up a vast amount of water, feeling the panic she was supposed to feel the beneath water arise in her chest.

Nathan reached for her arms and pulled her up to the stable side of the bridge which hadn't collapsed, making sure that she got up before he pulled his jacket off and wrapped it around her tiny frame. "What the hell was that?!" He yelled as Cassie started to regain her breathing little by little. Lucky for them it was the middle of June and warm outside, so it was unlikely for her to get hypothermia or a cold, but it still didn't decrease Nathan's worries about her well-being.

"W-What happened?" Cassie asked as she stood up, gripping his jacket tightly around herself despite the fact that she did not feel cold at all. She felt entirely normal in body temperature, except that she was drenched in water.

"You didn't come up again," he explained, checking her face to see if she was fine. Though she appreciated the gesture, she couldn't help to find his behavior both a little embarrassing and over-exaggerated. "I thought you fainted."

"Oh, I didn't," she assured him and handed him the jacket back, not really requiring it because of the warmth in the air. "I just saw something down there."

"What did you see?" He asked, more curious than concerned this time, which relieved her.

"A turtle." She answered honestly and looked down at the water again from over the handrail. "Didn't think there were any at this side of the park."

"A _turtle_? You... Forget it," he face-palmed and groaned exasperatedly. Then he removed his hand from his face and eyes her from top to bottom, causing Cassie to unintentionally blush a bit. "Well, I guess we can't go to McDonald's until you've had a change of clothes."

She followed his gaze and looked down at herself, having almost forgotten that she had just fallen into the water. "Guess so." But it was not something she was looking forward to.

When they returned to her house so that she could dry herself and change her clothes, her mother had been less than subtle about how enraged she was about the fact that her daughter was soaking wet. Throughout the process of getting ready to leave with Nathan, Claudia had been consistently complaining at her unruly behavior like she always did whether she had a genuine reason to or not. Though it was nothing uncommon for Cassie to endure when it came to her obsessive mother, she did draw the line when she started complaining at Nathan as well.

Just as she had put on her new set of clothes, which consisted of a gray-colored shirt beneath a black dungaree dress that reached to her knees (sporting the logo of her favorite band 'AC/DC'), along with the black summer cap her father had actually been generous enough to give her on her fourteenth birthday that year, she finally went downstairs and dragged a very traumatised Nathan away from her mother's obnoxious yelling and out the door, not even looking back as she called, "Bye, mom. We'll be in town!"

"Get home before nine, young lady!" Cladia called after her from the frame of the entrance door, watching as her daughter walked away with her friend, not at all appreciating her daughter's rebellious attitude. She sometimes even agreed to her husband's ideal thought of wanting a son instead of a daughter but knew better than to add another child to the family with someone like Cassie to teach him her tricks. Maybe she would behave better when they moved? A part of her wished for that to happen, but another knew better. Cassandra Hayes would remain unchangeable until the end of time.

But little did Cassie know that the summer of 1989 would be one she would never forget her entire lifetime, and not in a good way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not owe IT**

 **Blog:** _www . Wood - White - Writer . Tumblr . com_

* * *

 **Chapter 2: A House is not a Home**

* * *

"So, what else do you know about this town you'll be moving to?" Nathan asked just as he was about to take a long sip from his soda, his cheeks thinning into his mouth and creating a loud slurping noise from the straw which made more than a few of the other customers there shift their attention from their food to the table Cassie and Nathan sat at.

Cassie sighed and threw some fries into her mouth, but not nearly enough for her to start choking like Nathan had done more than once during the last hour. As always, she never ceased to be impressed by how he failed to gain any weight despite his consistent eating habits. Genes, probably. His mother was a stick-thin athlete who spent every afternoon jogging around town three to five times a day and his father was just blessed with automatic bodily fat-burning despite sitting on his ass the entire day whilst watching Saturday Night Live on the TV. A lazy ass, in other words, much like her own old man.

Thinking back at the question Nathan had just asked her, she started pondering about what she had been told about her parents, and be that as it may, it wasn't much of interest. "It's called Derry, for some reason," she explained and waved her hand dismissively. "It's not a loud place, quite quiet, apparently. Should I get to know anything else I'll call your sorry ass." She chuckled at the last sentence and quickly grabbed the soda bottle away from him as his face was beginning to grow purple from the lack of oxygen. As soon as the straw was out of his mouth, he gasped for air and coughed a couple of times as if he had been held beneath water.

 _Seriously_ , Cassie thought and shook her head, _an_ _idiot_.

"Thanks," he said and grabbed his half-eaten cheeseburger and looked at it as if he had just been denied sustenance for a lifetime. "Thought I was gonna die there,"

"Nathan, you're a moron, you know that?" She asked rhetorically and crossed both of her arms on top of the table, leaning down on them as she watched him begin to wolf down the meal with little pause. "Your priorities aren't really good."

" _Bhaweber_ ," he answered indifferently with his mouth stuffed with meat and buns, having already consumed over half of what remained of the burger in one bite. When he finally swallowed, he took a deep breath and prepared to finish the last part following that same pattern. "But you only live once."

"True," she agreed and grabbed her own bottle of soda, taking a sip of it from the straw, but on the contrary of Nathan's loud and obnoxious one, hers was a subtle and small one which barely released any noise.

"Or maybe some of us have lived or will live more than once?" He suggested curiously as he tossed the remainder of the burger down the dustbin next to them, placing a finger beneath his chin as he began to wonder.

Cassie struggled not to let out more than a single laugh at his curiosity. "You believe in reincarnation, Nathan? I never took you for the religious type."

"It's got nothing to do with religion," he corrected. "I was just thinking about what are the odds of actually being able to best death? That you're able to see the world from more than one perspective."

"You're not really beating death if you cannot recall your last life, you know?" She said as she sat up again and started to deliberately consider the idea along with him. "You're just entering another world while exiting the previous one. Technically you die, but you are born again with a new identity and a new name. If reincarnation exists, then how come neither of us is able to recall who we were? It seems the same as a regular death to me." She shrugged her shoulders. "But what's really bugging me is how we entered this deep and spiritual subject when we were initially talking about how big of a moron you are."

"Hey, you wound my pride!" He exclaimed and feigned being hurt.

Cassie scanned her eyes around the entire shop, from everything from the creepy Donald McDonald, which she had made her quest to avoid, to the other people enjoying their meal like themselves. "Funny, I don't spot it anywhere." She was on the verge of breaking out in laughter upon seeing his expression after she had made that remark. Nathan never ceased to make any situation become comedic. He was like a clown himself, somewhat.

After a little while of talking nonsense and eating again, they exited McDonald's and went around time, spending their time like they wanted it. Cassie wanted to enjoy what little time she had left with her best friend because she doubted that getting new friends would be simple once they moved away. She never had a knack of forcing bonds with others, Nathan being the sole exception of that rule because he had at least tried, and she understood that the chances of her becoming acquainted with no one would stand superior to those of getting ordinary friends.

Most girls were all Barbie and annoying, worrying about nothing but their own vain selves, whilst boys didn't easily accept female companions unless they became friends with benefits, which she most certainly would not. The only reason delinquents were considered optional was because at least they knew how to really have fun, even if it involved pissing people off. Heck, people had more than a few times assumed that she herself was one, her parents included. Good to see that her elders had faith in her.

After hanging out with Nathan until 10 pm, one hour past her curfew, Cassie bid him goodbye and returned home to meet a very red, very _angry_ , Claudia waiting on the porch with both her arms crossed over her bulgy chest. Cassie might have considered looking apologetic had it not been for how utterly ridiculous her mother looked like wearing that apron which said 'Mama Bear Cooks'. That alone caused her to laugh as she approached the entrance door, not even looking at her mother's infuriated expression from her peripheral vision as she grabbed the doorknob.

"It's ten, young lady," Claudia said surprisingly low. Cassie had almost expected to lose half of her hearing for a second there.

"Good to see you learned the time, mother dear," Cassie replied with a smirk, twisting the knob and walking inside, spotting her father from outside the living room watching the television on the couch, a can of beer firmly attached to his hand. She scoffed to herself and went up the stairs, not even bothering to wait for her mother's scorning. She had already endured more than enough to last her a hundred years.

"Where are you going, young lady?" Called her mother from down the stairs just as Cassie reached the second floor.

"My room. If I could go elsewhere, I would've,"

"How many times have I told you to listen to what I'm saying?"

"Not nearly enough for me to actually consider it," answered Cassie and looked down the stairs to meet her mother's eyes, anger versus equanimity. "Seeing it as we're forced to leave, I wanted to enjoy myself a little more than usual."

"What that's supposed to mean?" Her mother demanded, a slight hint of confusion in her tone, then her eyes widened considerably as she gathered her own mental conclusion of what her daughter was implying. "Did you go _drinking_?"

"Since when do I drink?" Cassie asked and quirked an eyebrow, genuinely shocked but at the same time not really at her mother's own interpretation of the situation. Her mother often insinuated such, as did her father, but he was too lazy of an ass to give a damn about her. What genuinely shocked her there was how her mother could even think of marrying such a swine. Then again, she was gullible to the core, a pattern Cassie made sure would not be inherited by genes.

Before her mother could get the time to spit out something else, Cassie turned her back and marched towards her room, effectively shutting the door this time despite the fact that the doorknob was slightly messed up and tended to not go properly into the frame unless she pushed it in twice.

Her walls were covered in posters of several bands which she found to her liking, including AC/DC and New Kids in the Block. There was nothing there even indicating that she was a girl. Had anyone even seen her room whenever she wasn't there they would have undoubtedly assumed she was a guy. Grabbing her Walkman from the top of her dresser and putting the headphones on her, Cassie slammed herself down on her bed and listened to 'You Got It' by New Kids on the Block. Right now all she wanted to do was take a moment to recall how effed up the world was. It possibly couldn't get any worse, could it?

The week passed her by sooner than expected and when the day they were supposed to leave eventually arrived, Cassie unleashed her wrath through busting random things at the junkyard with a baseball bat along with Nathan, who had been all too compliant to join. Although it had been short, it had been gratifying to get out all of the anger. When it was time for her and her parents to leave, she hugged Nathan tightly and pecked him on the cheek. "Don't do too much stupid shit without me, Alright?" She requested as she pulled away from him, waiting for her parents to put the last of their suitcases in the taxi on the way to the airport.

Nathan laughed and roughed her hair again, earning himself a mild glare in return, but he didn't mind. He would miss it from her. "Sure, and remember that there are no scary clowns in Maine, and if there are then I'll give you fifty bucks and save your ass." He reached his arm to her, which she firmly accepted.

"No knight in shining armor, but fifty bucks is a deal."

Then she placed herself in the back of the taxi as her parents' were finished packing their stuff and they were on their way. Cassie watched as Nathan's figure gradually got smaller and smaller as the distance between them increased, and the home which she once had grown up in disappeared from sight. It had never been of any sentimental value to her, but she was gonna miss the place more than she initially thought she would. There weren't many people in Asheville except Nathan she would miss, but it had been her home. Now it was gone.

She watched as all the buildings passed her by as the car drove out of town and towards the nearest regional airport, which was just little over a half hour away from the center of Asheville. The trip to Maine was, mildly said, a _hellish_ one. There was first a three-hour flight from Asheville Regional Airport to John F. Kennedy International Airport, then a three-hour stop until the next flight, which took approximately little over ten hours in total to get from John F. to Northern Maine Regional Airport. As if she could not be any more tired, they had to take another one-hour bus from the airport to little town of Derry, which she soon found to be an underwhelming experience.

Maybe she was just too tired to even give a damn, but something about the town seemed off. Sure, they did not arrive at their new home until nearly four in the morning, she was tired as hell, she could barely bear her mother's constant bitching due to her own tiredness, and quite honestly, all she really wanted to do was go to sleep and pretend like she was going to actually like the place. Truth be told, she didn't.

The house they had bought was a two-story house with a basement, which she found disturbing as hell, but not scary. It was probably because of the fact that the place was old, nothing more. Surprisingly, her room wasn't as small as the one back in North Carolina used to be. This one was bigger, had a large window which provided her with a view of the rest of neighborhood, and had gray, flower-patterned walls. Whoever owned the room prior to her must've really had a bland sense of fashion, but Cassie didn't mind at all. In fact, she was glad that whoever owned it didn't paint everything pink and induce her with nausea.

After packing out all of her stuff, everything from her clothes to her personal belongings such as her stereo and books, her posters were up on the walls and her bed had sheets put on it, she grabbed her Walkman and went downstairs with the intentions of walking a bit around the neighbourhood and grow a little familiar with her environment. However, just as she had opened the door and was out on the porch, the sound of her mother's semi-heavy footsteps behind her caused her to pause with exasperation. This was a natural occurrence whenever she was going outside.

"Where are you going, young lady?" Claudia asked demandingly. Cassie bit the bottom of her lip and struggled not to come with a snide remark to her mother, but the temptation was succeeding just barely.

"I'm going to get to know this _lovely_ neighborhood of ours," she answered innocently, looking over her shoulder to meet her mother's suspicious eyes. "Is that against the rules you have established around me?" Needless to say, her mother did not find her remark amusing at all, but something flickered in her face for a second, something Cassie was vaguely able to detect. Agreement?

"Oh, well, Alright then," Claudia replied, mildly understanding. Cassie had to blink a couple of times to verify whether what she had just heard was something her imagination had processed for her personal amusement. Her mother did not just seriously—

"Just don't go too far," Claudia requested benevolently, sounding actually motherly for once and further surprising Cassie.

Apparently, she did.

"Sure, mom," Cassie replied awkwardly and started walking to the main road outside the house. "See you later." She did not stay there long enough to hear her mother reply before the door shut behind her. As soon as she reached the road and began walking down to the left side of the neighborhood, she could feel the sun heating her exposed arms and her hair deliberately began to warm up. That was one of the disadvantages of having black hair, and a reason she tended to hate the summer.

Holding her hand up as to shield her face from the illuminating ball of light in the skies, Cassie cursed herself for not bringing her cap with her. It was almost hilarious how the weather appeared to stand superior to the heat she experienced in Asheville, almost abnormally so. Had she known it would be _that_ hot she would've just gone in her underwear, but it was probably not best to advertise her as a promiscuous girl already on the first day in a new town.

After walking for a bit and avoiding the year beneath the shadows of the trees she passed, she didn't think of much else until as a voice called out to her from one of the houses she just passed.

"Who the fuck are you?!"

As soon as she heard that voice, Cassie abruptly halted in her steps and looked to the side. A boy with abnormally large glasses, front buck teeth, and wearing a T-shirt which said ' _Freese's_ ' stood in the shadow of one the porch of the houses, waving his arm frantically in her way as if a desperate attempt to get her attention. She debated mentally with herself whether it would be best to just leave in an instant or actually try to gain some acquaintances in town, though her choices could be deemed questionable if she resorted to a foul-mouthed, nerdy-looking kid for friendships.

As she was about to make her decision, the boy jumped over the fence of the porch and started approaching her. "Heard we're getting some fresh meat into town, but didn't expect it so soon." He said.

"'Fresh meat?'" Cassie furrowed her eyebrows at the boy and crossed her arms firmly over her chest. "Just who the fuck are you?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "That's what I'm asking _you_."

She scoffed. "You always approach new people on the streets like that?"

He laughed and gestures to himself proudly. "That's how the cool kids here in Derry are."

"Oh?" She looked from left to right around her with exaggeratedly wide eyes. "I can't see any. Can you point me in their direction then I'll be on my way."

He snorted and gave her an unimpressed look. "You're hilarious."

"Best in the business," she admitted proudly and patter her own shoulder, actually finding herself enjoying the little talk with the nameless boy.

"Richie Tozier," the boy introduced himself.

"Cassie Hayes," she introduced herself in return.

"Cassie? Short for Cassidy, or Casey, or—"

"Cassandra," she admitted sourly, not enjoying it when people were referring to her by her full name. "Though I wouldn't recommend using it."

He seemed confused. "Why?"

She decided to play the same game with an equally powerful asset to win the talk. "So people call you _Richard_ Tozier on a daily basis? Seems like a mouthful to me."

Seemingly understanding, he nodded in agreement. "Point taken."

"So, Richie, anything you know of in town that I should steer clear of?" She asked him, thinking that some advice would do her good in an alien town such as Derry.

"Yeah, stay away from Henry Bowers," he said in almost an instant, sounding almost mildly frantic about it before composing himself again with a cough. "Just my advice."

"Henry Bowers?"

"Local mullet-wearing asshole," he grumbled, and for the first time since she arrived, Cassie struggled not to burst out laughing. Despite his foul-mouth, the guy knew how to use words properly, cursing or otherwise.

"A mullet-wearing asshole? That's a new one. I'll remember that," she said amused and nodded approvingly his way. "Who's actually this Bowers guy?"

"A bully, to say the least. Causes trouble for anyone. The same goes for his bitches Victor Criss, Patrick Hockstetter, and Belch Huggins."

"Delinquents?" She inquired, to which he nodded. "I'll be sure to make them sorry if they piss me off. Thanks for the advice, dude."

" _Dude_?" He asked with obvious disbelief. "I didn't know the vocabulary of a girl extended that far. It must be destin—"

Before he could finish, she held her arm up to interrupt his melodramatic speech, facepalming with her free hand. "Don't go that far, Tozier,"

So Cassie spent some time speaking to her new weird neighbor and was actually enjoying the talks she had with the obviously foul-mouthed guy. They even went as far as to have a swearing contest about who could say the worst words the fastest, to which it became a draw. He would provide her with information about the basic about Derry, about how nonchalant and 'asshole-ly' mostly everyone was, and who he recommended she tried not to associate with. Even though she rarely listened to what people said about other people, there was something lingering on Tozier's face whenever he mentioned the so-called Bowers Gang, something that made her consider heeding his advice. He also mentioned a house at 29 Neibolt Street which was rumored to be haunted. Things seemed to get more interesting on second thoughts in town. Maybe she would enjoy it?

His mother eventually called him back inside for some reasons and he was forced to leave, and they went their separate ways. At least she knew that the afternoon had not been wasteful, and Cassie was actually feeling quite optimistic about her chances of surviving there. As long as she minded her own business and ignored trouble then she would be fine, according to the Trashmouth.

Cassie spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the neighborhood, encountering many people but few of them that looked welcoming. Not that she minded them. If they yelled something at her she would turn around and raise her middle finger back at them in return. It pissed them off, but it was funny as hell.

However, only when she realized that she had reached the road which led to the house Tozier had warned her about did she pause for a bit with her aimless wandering. It wasn't really late, but she could tell that the sun would begin to set in not too long and her mother would never let her outlive it if she arrived home late again. For some reason, Neibolt Street seemed deserted and empty, unlike the other houses she had passed, but temptation wanted her to go further towards it. She sometimes cursed her yearn for a thrill.

"Had Nathan been here we would've gone there without a doubt," she murmured to herself, standing still on the road where she could see the black, burnt house at the end of the street. It genuinely looked like something out of a horror movie, not necessarily a ghost house but a place where it was expected that bad things would occur.

Cassie rubbed her forehead and began debating with herself. Go there or go home? Go to a creepy-ass house and get potentially the thrill of her life or return home where her mother would be waiting?

"The house it is, then,"


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own IT**

 **Blog:** _www . Wood - White - Writer . Tumblr . com_

* * *

 **Chapter 3: A Trouble shared is a Trouble halved**

* * *

Cassie would be lying if she said her tendency to be attracted towards thrills and dangers didn't get her in trouble on more than one occasion. She recalled a moment of her childhood when she tried to jump from the highest point of the swings in the schoolyard. She ended up breaking her arm on impact with the ground, but there was never a point in her life where she regretted it.

Never before had she felt more alive. Oh, how furious her parents had been when they were informed by the principal about what happened. Her mother had lectured her about how much of a nuisance she was to them and how she wanted Cassie to quit being such a troublesome child and start to behave like a proper girl.

She never did anyway.

As Cassie walked down towards the end of the road, focusing on nothing but the house, she felt a sudden chill run up and down her spine for some reason out of the blue. It was odd because it was at least eighty degrees outside in the shadows alone. She looked behind her just in case someone was stalking her from behind. The last thing she was in need of was going missing on the first day of a new town. There was no one there following her but emptiness itself.

She chuckled to herself and scratched the back of her head, "Damn, Hayes, you're getting paranoid," Instead of turning back, she, like the thrill-seeking and impulsive teenager she was, continued forth and did not stop until she faced the front porch of the house, ignoring the part of her that was reluctant to go.

"Tozier wasn't kidding there," she mumbled as she got a hold of how utterly in debris the entire place looked to be. There was no color with the exception of Ebony as far as she could see, the fences surrounding the house looked to be containing something sinister within them, and there was but a sole, twisted tree to remind her that the place once used to be a home, not a horror attraction for Halloween. There was even a police tape on the entrance as if they expected teenagers like herself to stay away.

Tozier has told her it used to be an old train house or something but had burnt down for some strange reason. The people who were trapped inside didn't make it out alive.

Feeling quite bold at first, the second she stepped towards the property, Cassie felt all bravery and thrill abandon her body and replace it with reluctance and fear. Goosebumps went up to her skin and covered her arms with pricks. "Maybe," she murmured and took an equally big step back as she had forth. "Maybe I'll just go find a store or something and buy something to chew on." And just like that, she changed her mind and decided to leave the creepy old house alone and just get something to eat instead.

She felt like a coward as she avoided the thrill she had always been seeking and always would be seeking until they day old age would take her down to the weeds. But for some reason, the further away she walked from the house, the more it felt like she had just dodged a bullet.

 _What a silly idea_ , she thought to herself as she exited the neighborhood and entered the center of town, getting a good view of all the available shops in the district. No McDonald's were in sight, which she was grateful for, but there was a range of other shops that she could explore, such as a diner by the far end of the street across the library called 'The Fine Diner'. A rather unoriginal name, but she was beginning to build up an appetite since she skipped both lunch and breakfast that day. Maybe some cheap-ass dinner would do her just fine? She doubted her parents would prepare anything by the time she arrived home.

She went towards it and entered the diner, a small bell hanging above the door let out a light clinging sound to indicate that a paying customer had just arrived. Surprisingly the place seemed rather empty, despite the fact that the late afternoons were usually the time during the day where people would be wanting cheap food like herself.

The song 'Talk Dirty To Me' by Poison was playing miserably in the background with the miserable intent of increasing the customers' own miserable existence to a brighter light. Nevertheless, none of the other customers she was able to spot in the diner seemed to take the hint. They were either sulking in the seats in the corners, too busy munching on some food, or just not paying any attention to their surroundings.

"Welcome to the Fine Diner," the woman behind the main desk called, at least making an attempt at lightening the atmosphere with a weak but visible smile. Her hair was in a loose bun like she hadn't even tried to tie it decently, and her face was heavy from years of experience and tiredness. A note of authority lingered on her facial features, the ones you would expect to see from stern teachers and the likes.

Cassie felt like she had to give her credit for the effort and walked up to the disk with a respectful nod. The cashier handed her the menu and Cassie took it, scanning her eyes across the optional selections. None of them looked very tempting to consume, but she considered it rude to just leave without saying anything.

"The Buffalo Beef is today's special," informed the cashier. Cassie closed in on the mentioned option with a suspicious and disbelieving eyebrow raised.

"Buffalo beef?"

The cashier shrugged, perhaps just as confused as herself. "Hell if I know what it's made of. Doubt it's real buffalo, though,"

Cassie heeded her advice and handed her the menu back. "I think some fries will do, along with a coke."

"Sure, sweetie," replied the woman politely and unceremoniously placed the menu down with the rest of them. She suddenly looked back at Cassie and furrowed her eyes, watching her like a scanner in a grocery store. Before Cassie was able to question her behavior the woman spoke up, "You know, I've lived in this city for half a decade and I've never seen you around. Where you from, sweetie?"

"North Carolina," Cassie answered truthfully, seeing as it would be no trouble to just answer the woman's inquiry. "Just got here today."

"Ah, from the south then?" The woman verified with a gleam in her eyes. "Had an uncle who moved to down there a couple of years ago. Poor bastard was crazy, I tell you. Said this town was cursed."

"Cursed?" This vaguely caught Cassie's attention. She was never overly supernatural, probably because she and Nathan often spent their time back in Asheville exploring supposedly 'haunted' houses only to find them disappointing and ghostless. Since then she never truly believed in phantoms or supernatural entities, let alone curses.

The woman detected her curiosity and began to wave her hand dismissively in front of her with a silly laugh. "Like I said, kid, he was crazy. Don't always believe what other people tell you, understand? Sometimes people will just mess with you for the heck of it, like that Bowers kid and his bunch of animals."

"Bowers? Henry Bowers?" A negative feeling was beginning to sink to the bottom of her stomach at the mention of that name. She hadn't even met the guy and she was already aware of how that name seemed to warrant trouble just by mentioning it. Turned out that Tozier wasn't pulling her leg when he said Bowers truly was an asshole if he was able to make a name for himself by the rest of the citizens.

The woman's eyes went a few inches wide, accompanied with a hint of cynicism. "You know him?"

"No, but I've heard he's an asshole around here."

"Damn straight! The Little pissant doesn't spare us a moment of peace whenever he's around to wreak havoc. It's ironic that his ol' man is a deputy officer in town, too." She looked down at Cassie with a mild clue of concern, her heavy and old eyes flickering with the same worry. "Look here, kid. That asshole and his buddies tend to hang around here during Saturday, so I wouldn't recommend staying here for long. Not that I necessarily chase away paying customers but you seem decent enough, so I'll heed you to follow my advice."

Cassie gave her a thumbs-up and nodded in understanding, feeling rather grateful. "Thanks, I'll be sure to leave her as soon as I'm done eating, then."

"'Atta girl," the woman said approvingly. "Don't see a lot of smart kids around these days. Mostly weak-willed idealists, plain stupid ones, or delinquents like Bowers. Then again, there are those depressive kids as well. Can't blame them, though. Just ask the Denbroughs."

Cassie tilted her head. "The Denbroughs?"

"Right, new kid and all. Wouldn't surprise me if you didn't know," the woman explained lazily and leaned over the counter with a sigh. "Their youngest kid went missing last October during the rainy seasons. Their oldest boy, Bill I think his name was, still haven't given up on him. Poor guy."

"He's still out searching even though it's been nearly a year?" Cassie also couldn't help but feel pity for the boy, whoever he was.

"Yeah, came to the Fine Diner with a bunch of posters a couple of months, asking for my permission to hang one of 'em up in the diner. Didn't have the heart to say no," she then proceeded to point at the bullet board in the back of the diner by the entrance, and Cassie felt a little oblivious for having failed to notice it when she first entered. Along with a bunch of advertisements was a missing poster with the picture of a rather young boy and information regarding said individual.

 **MISSING**

 **George Denbrough**

 **7 years**

 **Last seen:**

 **October 13th**

 **Witcham Street**

 **If found, please contact Derry Police Department**

 **(914) 535 - 6280**

"Unfortunately, it seems as if everyone has forgotten about the boy. No one even mentions anything about him these days, like a ghost who passes one town to another." The cashier sulked and seemed to sympathize with the family of the missing individual. Cassie too felt bad on the family's behalf, especially the brother's.

She was an only child and was born to neglectful parents who probably couldn't care any less if she too went missing. But that boy, George, was fortunate enough to have someone who would search through the entire world for him. She felt envious.

"And they never found him?"

The woman shook her head sadly. "Not a trace, but I don't know whether to blame the cops or the lack of evidence, probably both. Nowadays they don't seem to care any more about a lost kid than a pack of donuts. Anyway, better find yourself a comfortable seat. The cook here's one lazy ass and will probably take longer than need to. I'll come with your dinner as soon as it's finished."

"Yeah, thanks,"

"No problem, kiddo, I'm here if you need anything." And as the cashier turned her back to go inform the cook about her order, Cassie followed the same gesture and went around to find herself a solitary seat where she wasn't at the risk of drawing attention to herself.

All she currently wanted to do was to get something to eat and leave. There was no need for her to stay there longer than what was deemed necessary, especially if that punk Bowers tended to come around. The need to meet him was on a severely low and nonexistent level.

The seats by the windows seemed appealing enough, so as she made her way there and placed herself down on the seat closest to the window, getting a full view of the rest of the street and the skies up above. The sun outside was finally beginning to set in the horizon, signalizing that the afternoon was on the brink of the evening. It felt rather comfortable, but as a child, there was always something she disliked about them. The feeling when something good and happy was being replaced with melancholia. It painted the skies in a gray color only she could see, a shade of dark which made all hope seem lost for some reason.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose and groaned. "I'm overthinking it," she said and leaned against the palm of her hand, eyeing the sunset as the song 'We Own Tonight' by New Kids On The Block started playing in the background, lighting up the atmosphere somewhat.

 _-he moment we've been waiting for_

 _'til tomorrow we're invincible_

 _And I promise not to leave your side_

 _'Cause we own, we own tonight!_

The bell hanging over the door suddenly rang again, signalizing that a new customer had arrived at the diner. It wasn't until the cashier sent her a sharp look across the desk towards Cassie that she understood that what the bell was signalizing was something particularly bad, and it didn't take her two guesses to get who had just arrived.

"Hey, Pamela! What's today's little special?" Called a rather obnoxiously loud voice, and the woman's expression turned sour but no less sharp as she threw the menu down on the desk in front of her.

"Buffalo's Beef," She answered. "Best today."

Cassie thought back at what she had told her earlier, about how she wasn't sure if it was anything edible in today's special. It seemed as if she wanted the asshole to eat the shit. She was forced to suppress a snicker that was trying to creep itself across her facial features.

"We'll have that, then, and make it quick."

"You'll have to wait just as long as the rest here, Bowers." The woman replied smartly, losing all composure just by talking to the douchebag. Cassie knew she couldn't blame her; she's be pissed too if she had to serve such a mullet-wearing asshole, as Tozier had put it.

Judging by a number of footsteps that just entered the diner, she guessed that Bowers was not alone. This would probably just make things more complicated, so she turned her head to the window and would at least make an effort in making herself invisible. It wouldn't look good if she ended up in a fight on the first day, though the idea was a tempting one nevertheless.

As her eyes lazily scanned across the street, silently judging every building and every shop she could spot, including a shitthole of a pharmacy, her eyes unconsciously landed on a floating balloon dangling above the ground, silently levitating way and further down the road out of sight.

"Poor kid," she mumbled to herself as she produced the mental image of a crying boy (or girl) having just lost their precious balloon. To her, the feeling could probably be compared to losing her precious teddy bear as a child when she went outside playing with it. She never truly mourned its absence, but it still felt like she had just lost something important to her. "Sucks to be them."

"Hey, you!"

Shifting her face around again with it still disinterestedly placed in her hand, Cassie cams face to face with four boys in total, two of them which looked like the very specific definitions of modern delinquents whereas the two others seemed rather decent but no less threatening in demeanor. So this was the infamous Bowers gang? Underwhelming, she had seen worse.

"Was there anything?" She asked, ignoring the looks they gave her. Had they never seen a girl before? With dopey shirts like that, she didn't doubt it.

"Those are our seats," said the one she guessed was Bowers himself, a blonde boy with a redneck-like exterior and a cap covering half of his head, as little in intelligence as it seemed.

"Funny," Cassie scoffed and didn't move an inch. "I don't see any 'asshole' labels around here."

A flicker of agitation crossed his face and indicated that she had just hit a nerve, and, as proud as she was, she internally cursed her smugness. Now was not a good time to make enemies, but she sometimes couldn't help it. A natural habit of hers, she supposed.

"Haven't seen you around here before, sweetheart," the tall one of the bunch spoke suddenly up, looking at her with lecherous eyes which made her tempted to cringe and kick him where the sun didn't shine, but she refrained to the best of her ability. "Where you from?"

"Your mom," she replied cynically, casting a sharp look his way to indicate that she was in no mood for messing around with the likes of them. One of the decent looking of the bunch with hair even lighter than Bowers' seemed as if he was about to burst out laughing and coughed with his hand covering his mouth to cover it up. At least one of them had a sense of humor she could amend with.

Before the tall one could come back with anything, the cashier spoke up, earning herself all of their attention as they turned to look at her. "Your seats are occupied for today, boys. Don't make a fuss about it and place your assess by another table."

Surprisingly enough, the boys begrudgingly complied to her demand and started finding themselves some new seats away from her, but before Bowers left to join the rest of his squad, he pointed at Cassie and said in a low, threatening tone, "I won't forget this."

"Wouldn't be surprised if you did." She replied disinterested and turned her head away from him and back to the window again, ignoring him entirely as he went to join his friends. As if on cue, a plate of fries and a bottle of coke was placed in front of her. The woman, Pamela, looked down approval and nodded. "On the house, kid. Saved me from having to deal with another outbreak here."

"Thanks, but I'm pretty sure you did that just fine on your own." Cassie held her arms up to keep her from giving her the plate of food for free, but Pamela wouldn't have any of it.

"True, but I like you kid, so look at this as a kind gesture, just don't tell my boss or he'll drag me by my hair down the sewers or something." She insisted and pushed the plate towards her again. Cassie exhaled and subtly accepted it along with the coke.

"Thanks,"

Pamela laughed good-natured and walked back to the desk to continue working. "Don't mention it."

As soon as she left, Cassie immediately started digging into her meal with little manners, making only sure to eat like a person instead of an animal starved of sustenance. Table manners were always something her mother tried to force onto her out of habit but consistently failed at.

Despite being a demanding bitch, Claudia had always been a subservient and weak-willed woman with no backbone against adversity. The only reason she always pestering Cassie was because she felt superior above her like a bully on the playground. When you're miserable you need to make someone even more miserable just to gain some self-value.

As soon as she was finished eating, Cassie got up from her seat and made a beeline towards the exit, making sure to keep an eye on the Bowers gang in case they were out for some payback. Wits were usually on her side of a situation, but physical strength and muscle was something she unfortunately lacked. They could easily overpower her if they were up for the task. As she looked back onto the group by the seats in the furthest corner of the diner, she spotted the tall one with his eyes on her, licking his lips with a disgusting leer on his face.

Gritting her teeth, she displayed the middle finger of her right hand for him to see and mouthed the words 'Fuck off' before slamming the door open and exiting the diner before she was able to witness his reaction, as satisfying as it would be.

However, though she felt rather arrogant about getting away with her offensive gesture, she realized just as she had crossed the road to the local library and was headed for the path which led to her neighboorhood, the doors of the diner opened and all four of the Bowers gang exited.

She instantaneously dodged around the corner of the closest building and avoided placing herself within their radar, vaguely checking to see if they were closing up on her. "You've gotta be shitting me," she muttered incoherently to herself and ducked her head back just in time before Bowers himself turned his head in her direction.

Fortunately for her, when the Bowers gang gave up looking, they all turned back and jumped into the run-down car she had spotter parked in front of the diner. She sighed in relief and thought she was saved by fate. However, just as they prepared to drive away, already starting the car, their boss shouted something which was downed down by the sound of the car's engine and it stopped before it even properly began.

"Look there! It's fuckface!" she heard him shout viciously, the reputation of him being a bully of the meanest sort was suddenly making sense to her. She gathered her boldness out of the corners and stepped out into the open, visibly risking being targeted but not caring for some reason. Her eyes searched for the four assholes around every inch of her sight until they landed at the back of the diner behind the parked run-down car again.

 _"We're gonna getcha, fuckface! Gonna getcha, you little smartass! Gonna getcha, you foureyed faggot!"_ She heard them scream at someone she was unable to detect behind the circle of bullies at first, but whoever it was that had been unfortunate enough to get picked on, they had to be significantly smaller in comparison to the towering teenagers.

However, when the blonde of the bunch took a step to the left and unknowingly granted her view of the situation, she was finally able to see, and unfortunately, recognize the sacrificial goat the cult of bullies had selected for their expression of sadism.

It was Tozier, and he wasn't alone. Besides him stood another boy, much smaller in height and much more frail-looking and physically weak. It was obvious that they wouldn't make it out of there without a few bruises or otherwise, and the worst thing was that the delinquents knew about it but would probably just enjoy stomping down on them. It made them feel stronger, more superior than a couple of kids.

 _When you're miserable you need to make someone even more miserable just to gain some self-value._ Just like her own mother enjoyed to do towards her in order to feel like she was the one with all the power. The ones who thought they had the goddamn right to play God.

"Are you fucking joking?" She spoke aloud but wasn't heard by any of them. Her hands unconsciously knotted themselves into rock-hard fists without her initial consent and she felt her anger reach a boiling point. She wasn't usually one who stepped into a situation which didn't involve herself. Her motive was 'their business, their problems'.

Calling her some sort of schoolyard hero would be idiotic, not to mention lies. She wasn't anyone's hero or role model, especially not her own parents'. Although seeing someone as frail-looking as a couple of boys her age agitated her beyond comprehension, she knew she too would go down if she even attempted to stand up against the four of them.

If she could just find some way to draw them away from...

From her peripheral vision she caught a familiar looking red balloon swaying across the ground across the street, none of the others were noticing the strange object levitating behind them but her. She furrowed her eyes skeptically as she watched it sway slowly and steadily to the left, not stopping until it bumped into the trunk of their... _Car!_

It was parked there unprotected and unsupervised by any of those fuckers, and it was literally providing her with the perfect opportunity. It would be risky, running away from a bunch of pissed delinquents. She was never able to outrun Nathan back in Asheville, and these guys appeared to be of approximately same height and built as him, with the exception of the fat one. He would have trouble keeping up with her, but the rest of them could catch on pretty quickly if they were angered enough, which they would undoubtedly become.

She didn't get enough time to decide before she watched the tall one suddenly grab Tozier by the collar of his shirt and push him harshly down to the ground, indicating that the two of them would be dead if she didn't hurry soon.

Grabbing a rather large rock from the ground beneath her and quickly making her way over to the car, she jumped up to the head of the car and tightened the grip on the rock, feeling actually rather excited about what she was about to do. Before committing her act of vigilance, she looked up and shouted towards the group as loud as she could, "Hey! Fuckers! Over here!" And before she even allowed them to turn their heads her direction, Cassie finally slammed the rock down onto the front window as hard as she was able to, effectively puncturing a hole through it.

Adrenaline rushed through her as she continued wailing her arm down over and over again, creating more and more holes in the midst of the window nonstop. When she felt the energy quickly course through her and exit, she threw the rock down one final time and proceeded to jump down and back away as she watched their eyes widen upon realisation of what she had just done whilst Tozier (with his broken glasses) and his friend actually seemed to approve of it with excited grins plastered on their faces.

She quickly waved her hand and gestured for them to get the fuck out of there, which they promptly did without hesitation, though Tozier seemed a bit reluctant to leave her behind with the bullies before he too ran away from there with his friend. When Cassie looked back at the bullies, she instinctively had to dodge when tall one charged at her with a fist swung down.

"You _bitch_!" He cried vengefully and began chasing her, by which time Cassie had already taken the cue and went running away from them with all the velocity her legs could possibly muster up. Much to her surprise, though, the Bowers gang were actually quite slow when in comparison to Nathan so she was easily able to outrun them for the first part of the chasing.

After five or seven minutes of consistently running away, passing by several streets and even narrowly passing her own, Cassie began to feel the weight of exhaustion land on her shoulders and her speed deliberately increased little by little. Her forehead was reeking with sweat and the sunset sun did not really aid her. Her breathing turned rigid and her legs began to weaken severely, and being chased by a bunch of maniacal bullies, that could mean a life sentence or two.

Only when she had finally reached her own neighborhood again did she halt by a tree to lean over and regain her breath. She neither saw nor heard anyone following behind her, so it meant that she had finally shaken them off of her. "Fucking shit," she breathed and let out a raspy and unstable laughter, finding the reason comedic and hilarious for some reason she was unable to understand. "They don't call them assholes for no reason, I guess."

From there she walked slowly back to her own house, the setting sun now at its peak of disappearing entirely. She didn't know how late it was, but she doubted it was late enough for her mother to be pissed at her.

Turned out to be incorrect.

As soon as she opened the door to her house and entered, her mother stood in the living room doorframe with both her arms placed firmly on her hips. Cassie internally groaned and decided to pass her mother without as much as a look of recognition. "I'm home," She wearily mumbled, walking over to the kitchen and opening the fridge to pull out a half-full carton of milk, not even bothering to retrieve a glass as she gulped the entire thing down in one.

"Where have you—"

"Like I said earlier, mother dear," Cassie interrupted as she dried her mouth of the milk that had spilled across her lips. "I went for a walk."

Her mother obviously didn't believe her. "It's eight pm."

"I was occupied."

"With _what_?"

Cassie shrugged and threw the empty carton down the trash can next to her. "Stuff,"

"And?"

Cassie was starting to grow annoyed, more than she already was. "Does it matter? You don't even care about what it's I do unless—"

"I will not tolerate you raising your tone to me like that, young lady," Claudia interrupted sharply and held a finger up to her face, commanding her daughter to remain silent. "On another matter. While your father has been out to get used to his new job, I've spent the opportunity to talk with your teachers."

Cassie scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back on her right leg. "You mean the teacher I will be forced to endure after the summer?"

"No," Cassie blinked with incertitude. "You will arrive at school next Monday and introduce yourself to your peers."

" _What_?" Cassie threw her arms down and looked incredulously at her mother, who had faced away with a stubbornness which evidently went down through genes. "School is over in just a week and you want me to go there _now_?"

"It will be a perfect opportunity for you to get some friends, Cassandra."

"I don't need any right now. Besides, I've already gotten acquainted with one of our neighbors."

"You can stand to gain a few more. It will help us accustom to this town."

"Screw that!"

" _Language_ , Cassandra," her mother said slowly. "You will leave for school at eight-thirty precisely, understand? No buts!"

Less than enthusiast and more than a little tempered with, Cassie brushed past her mother's shoulder and stomped up the stairs, purposefully making as loud noises as she was able to before she entered her room and slammed the damn door shut.

"Fuck this shit."k


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own IT**

 **Blog:** _www . Wood - White - Writer . Tumblr . com_

* * *

 **Chapter 4: A Golden Key can open any Door**

* * *

 _"So, how's it up north?"_ Nathan's voice always brought her comfort in a moment of despair such as the one she was currently experiencing, but it only had the genuine effect if he was standing in the same room as her. Now he was but a voice on the other end of a damned telephone cord.

"It's barely bearable," she muttered sourly and drew a hand over her face as she turned in bed, keeping the phone close to her ear at all times. "My borderline mom is the sole reason for it. I was starting to think I might actually enjoy it here." It was true, after meeting the odd but surprisingly comedic Tozier boy Cassie was actually growing positive over her stay there, but then there was her mother's bitching and the run-in with the delinquents that made her cynical again.

 _"Awe, want me to come over?"_ He asked sweetly, causing her to chuckle. He somehow always knew how to lift her spirits when it threatened to abandon her body for dead.

"As much as I would like that, we both know it's impossible by now," she said with a sigh. "Besides, you got your own problems to deal with now, I'm sure."

 _"None which I can't put temporarily aside,"_

"I love you, you ass,"

 _"Love you too, Cassie. Now, have you gotten in any trouble yet?"_ It was as if he was able to see right through through the phone line. He knew her so well, more than her own parents did.

She laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of her head. " _Whaaat_? You know me, Nathan. You know I would never—"

 _"Alright, Cas, pit it out."_

"A couple of delinquents of the worst sorts," she admitted hopelessly, earning herself an exasperated groan from the other side of the conversational line.

 _"How many?"_

"Four in total," she muttered. "Smashed the front of their car."

 _"What?"_ Nathan shrieked through the line, sounding slightly more bemused than angered. _"You smashed their car with what?"_

"A rock," she had to blink a couple of times. "You're not pissed?"

 _"It's funny how you're more afraid of me being afraid than your own parents,"_

"You know they don't care about me," she added bitterly and sat up, pulling a few strands of her hair behind her ear. "They are a pair of selfish— You know what they are."

He hummed in agreement on the other line, _"True, but I have to ask, why did you do it?"_

"Do what?"

 _"C'mon, Cas, you know what I mean. Why did you smash their car?"_

"I was trying to get them away from a couple of boys they had begun to severely bully," she admitted a bit embarrassed, not used to tell people that she actually cared to some degree about others, especially not people she had just met. "They didn't stand a chance against them, so I just thought I'd lend them a hand."

 _"Awe, you **do** care." _He squeaked affectionately like a moron, causing Cassie to grumble incoherent words of annoyance into the telephone.

"Shut it, Nathan,"

 _"But seriously, this is the perfect opportunity for you to make some friends over the summer,"_

"My mom has already that covered,"

 _"Oh?"_

She gritted her teeth and prepared to speak with as much irritability and acidic words as she could when regarding the subject at hand. "Apparently she wants me to go to that school the following Monday, three days before school closes up for the summer. She told me, quote, ' _It will be a perfect opportunity for you to get some friends, Cassandra_.' What a load of shit."

 _"Pfft,"_ he struggled not to laugh _. "Cassandra."_ She frowned whenever he heard her full name. It never seemed to roll off her tongue as easily as Cassie did, and with good reasons too. Her parents must have been drunk when they decided to name her.

"Really, as if my parents couldn't get some more filling of crap into them. Anyway, I gotta go or I'll hear it. Talk to you later?"

 _"You know I'll be available at any time."_

"Good to know. Bye." And she hung up the phone and sank back into her bed, she threw both her arms on either side and groaned heavily. She didn't know whether gaining some friends there would be of her advantage or otherwise, but she was definitely not looking forward towards going to that wretched school if those assholes were there. If they knew she was going to attend the same school as her...

She was fucked

* * *

"Everyone, this is Cassandra Hayes and she will be attending class for the rest of the week with us."

" _Cassie_ ," she mumbled irritably and gripped the straps around her bag. The teacher, Mrs. Casey, a rather thin woman with an equally thin neck of twice the usual length for a human being, looked scrutinizingly down on her from her height.

"I'm sorry?" She inquired as politely as she could muster, but it didn't take Cassie much effort to see through her facade.

She ignored the woman's unwelcomely glare and cast a sharp look at her over her shoulder, not at feeling intimidated at all. She had had her fair share of encounters with pissy teachers in the past. This woman was no significant exception. "The name's Cassie, not Cassandra." She turned away from the teacher and scanned across the entire classroom, memorizing every face pointed her way and otherwise. However, two of them stood out of the unrecognizable category.

Cassie exhaled and struggled not to facepalm. "You've gotta be fucking kidding m-"

"I'm sorry, did you say anything, Miss Hayes?" Mrs. Casey interrupted, switching to her sweet and innocent tone again.

Cassie shook her head and forced an approving smile onto her lips. "No, there wasn't anything."

"I see. Well, I suppose you can take the seat next to Mr. Denbrough over there." And as the teacher proceeded to point with a skeletal index finger over to the far left side of the room where an empty seat was placed, Cassie's eyes landed on a rather tall boy for his age, straight brown hair and a mature exterior on the contrary of the rest of the class. _Denbrough_ , that name was familiar. She recalled the family that lost their youngest boy last Autumn. If that was the case, and that this boy was related to the one that went missing, then it meant that this was the older brother. Bill Denbrough.

"Alright," Cassie replied to the teacher and moved past the rows of seats to eventually placed herself onto her own, swinging her bag over the chair and leaning against the palm of her hand with apathy. Today was gonna be a boring day, no doubt. Once she got home she couldn't wait to call Nathan and inform him about how utterly ridiculous everything appeared to be, including the teachers. Her mother was exaggerating when she told her about her chances of gaining friends there.

"H-Hey," a voice from beside her whispered meekly.

Cassie turned her head to the side and saw the Denbrough boy waving towards her, attempting to greet her without drawing the attention of Mrs. Casey towards them. She offered him a smile and nodded towards him. "Hey," she whispered back.

"M-My name is B-B-Bill."

Bill, the abbreviation of William, much like Cassie was the abbreviation of her full name. "Cassie."

"Y-Yeah, I know. Richie t-told us about you," He said and gestured towards the other side of the room where the familiar-looking boy with abnormally large glasses sat, waving at them both from where he and the other boy she had witnessed getting picked on by the Bowers gang sat. Uncertain of how to respond, Cassie displayed her middle finger towards Tozier with a sly smirk on his face, and would you know it, he responded the same way with both of his own middle fingers held up in return with a smile on his face. An offensive gesture was usually the right way of gaining acquaintances, at least from her perspective. Manners and polite greetings be damned.

"Miss Hayes, Mr. Tozier!"

Both of them immediately stiffened up upon being called by a very tall, very angry-looking Mrs. Casey, who stood in the front of the classroom with both of her arms placed firmly on each of her skeletal, bony hips. Several of the other students turned around to look at them as well. "It really wouldn't look well if you ended up in the principal's office during your first day here, Miss Hayes," she said and glared sternly in her direction, causing Tozier to let out a small yet audible laugh. Cassie glared his way with a tightened fist, but as if on cue, Mrs. Casey snapped her head towards Tozier with an equally, if not an extended, amount of agitation painted across her features. "The same goes for you, Mr. Tozier. I don't want you teaching the new student such vulgar gestures."

Now it was Cassie's turn to stifle a laugh, to which Tozier seemed to look at with an incredulous expression. "I didn't do anything!" he exclaimed and gestured towards her with both his arms stretched out. "It was she that-"

"I don't take lightly to students blame other students for their own problems," Mrs. Casey interrupted forbiddingly, holding a finger up to keep him from arguing any further. "If I witness another incident like this, Mr. Tozier, I will personally see fit that you stay behind after class is finished. Am I clear?"

Seeing as he had already lost the situation, Tozier sank back into his seat and prepared to submit to her conditions. However, before he was able to open his mouth to reply, another person beat him to it.

"Look at it this way, Mrs. Casey," said Cassie and, much to everyone's utter shock, held up her middle finger towards the teacher with an innocent smile plastered onto her face. The teacher went from completely red to completely purple in a matter of seconds, and already by then, several of the other students struggled to keep their laughter contained, even going as far as to exploit their hands as covers.

At first, Mrs. Casey said nothing, merely looking at Cassie with what could only be distinguished as an amalgamation of infuriation, anger, and disturbance. Silence echoed through the entire room, the only exceptions being the occasional snickers escaping the rest of the class. Then, Mrs. Casey's finger went straight up above her head, and pointed accusingly towards Cassie with a stuttering tone,

"Principal's o-office, M-M-Miss Hayes," Fear was unlikely the cause of her abrupt change of tone from strict authority to weak stutters. Lack of words from the anger that deliberately built itself up from within her seemed more probable. All of the other students could silently agree on that in unison.

Cassie, on the other hand, had never felt more in control of a situation than she currently did. She somewhat began to feel pretty positive about her chances of making it there, if the teacher proved to be as easily breakable and submissive as poor Mrs. Casey. She cast a glance to the side and saw both Tozier, Denbrough, and the boy along with them look at her with surprise, approval, and sheer joy. The latter originated from Tozier.

* * *

Spending over half the day anticipating for the supposed principal to arrive was boring, to put it mildly. There were other terms she could use to describe the sensation, none of which were appropriate to say aloud. Cassie had waited outside the principal's door for three hours in total, the bag of her school-associated belongings had been slammed unceremoniously down on the floor beside her, and she sat there with half her waist down at the seat and both her hands tucked into each pocket of her dungaree-shorts.

"What do you know, mom was right," she mumbled lazily to herself and cast a look up at the clock, having done so over twenty times in the last hour. It didn't appear to be moving any faster. On the contrary, it seemed as if it was slowing down just to spite her. "This was just the _perfect_ opportunity to gain some friends." The waiting room was as empty as her future and there had been no one present there but herself for the last two hours, the only other person had been escorted out by a teacher almost as soon as he first entered.

At least it was preferable to be alone than to be stuck with an obnoxious dingbat for God knows how long. She sighed and sank further down into her seat, debating internally with herself whether it was a good idea to get on the teacher's bad side. Maybe she should have just stayed silent and just played along, but then again, she felt herself more than willing to repeat that scene for a hundred times just to get to witness the teacher's incredulous expression again. Oh, god, she was never gonna outlive that satisfactory memory. It was her first day of school, technically, and she was already in trouble with her superiors. She had beat her initial record of three days at the first.

Then, all of a sudden, the door leading into the waiting room opened up, and a familiar-looking blonde boy was forced into the room by a teacher. The guy forced himself out of her grip and turned around, almost prepared to physically wound her if he felt like it, but before he was able to, the teacher gave him a stern look even Cassie felt immediately threatened by and he faltered. "You will stay here until the principal's ready for you," she commanded strictly and slammed the door shut as she left them alone there.

Immediately recognizing the guy as a member of the Bowers gang she encountered on Saturday, Cassie pulled her hat further down on her face in a vain attempt to conceal herself, but already by then, it was too late. The guy turned around to face the rest of the room with a frustrated growl and his eyes instantaneously fell on her, and they widened with the recognition she would rather have replaced with unfamiliarity. " _You_ ," he spoke in a mix of what she could only define as both contempt and surprise.

Cassie mumbled incoherently to herself before positioning her hat properly back on the top of her head and sat straight up, prepared if anything was about to break loose in-between them. Surprisingly enough, he didn't seem like he was on the verge of unleashing anything, and rather walked over to the opposite wall and sat down on a chair, facing her with a scowl on his face. "I remember you," he said, but it wasn't as contemptuous as Cassie initially expected of someone whose car she just smashed the front window of. "You wrecked Belch's car."

"Who? Me?" She asked feigning innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't fuck with me," he threatened, to which Cassie merely shrugged nonchalantly. "I know it was you, so does Henry."

"Well, shit me sideways, then," She added, sounding no less indifferent to his threats. "Go tell that boss of yours that he can such a cow."

"You really don't know who we are, do you?" He asked superciliously, leaning a bit forth as if he was not visible enough for her.

Cassie remained seated and didn't as much as move an inch despite the fact that the look he was giving her could have easily made a toddler piss their pants. Instead, she allowed a smirk to creep across her lips, an indication that she was not intimidated by him or his friends. "You're the infamous Bowers gang I've heard so much about. A pack of punks who think that just because they have daddy-issues that they are allowed to step over those they deem beneath them. Don't make me laugh, asshole."

He nodded in verification to her statement. "That's correct, and how do you think Bowers will react once I tell him that the bitch who wrecked our car turns out to be the new girl in town we've heard so much about?"

"Fuck if I know," she said simply. "But I hear that news travel fast around here. Didn't think I've become so famous over just a couple of days? I'm flattered."

"In this town, you'll learn that rumors and reputation don't work so well around here. Just ask the Marsh girl."

She shook her head unconcerned. "I neither worry nor don't care. Who are you anyway? Unlike the rest of those morons you actually don't seem that fucked-up, especially when it comes to that tall asshat."

"Patrick's a dick, even I can admit that, but he's the last person you'd want to fuck with so I don't recommend doing anything stupid, even for you."

"Bite me."

"No thanks," he replied shortly, "Name's Vic."

Cassie rubbed her forehead. "Why is it that everyone uses abbreviations rather than their full name?"

"Victor's a lousy name. My mom must have been drunk when she decided to name me."

"So was mine," she agreed with a nod. "Seems like parents these days are fucked up when it comes to naming their kids. I mean, yours is especially fucked up." she snickered smugly, earning herself a particularly contemptuous glare from him, even sharper than the one she received earlier. She knew she'd just hit a nerve, but she didn't think it would be over something so insignificant as his identification.

"Fuck you,"

"No thanks," she mimicked him slyly and inhaled, "I'd rather have less of an asshole put his dick into me."

"That can be arranged," he commented snidely.

She snorted. "By my own choosing, thank you very much."

"Now, who are _you_?" he finally asked.

"The name's Cassie."

He let out a laugh at the mention of it, "And here you talk about bad about abbreviations when you yourself have one. Let me guess, ' _Cassandra_ '?"

She cringed and leaned back into her seat with a groan. "Is it that easy to guess?"

"I used to have a rat named that. My mom named her, trust me, _not_ me. She was drunk _again_ , I guess."

"Would make sense," She said and drew a hand through her hair. "I honestly don't get why my parents chose such a lame-ass name in the first place. Then again, they never care." She scratched the back of her neck and sighed, actually feeling slightly more relaxed than she did earlier. She couldn't believe that it originated from one of the pissy people who spent their days terrorizing kids just to get a boner. "Anyway," she said and looked back at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why are you here at the principal's office?"

He shrugged. "Why the fuck should I tell you?"

"Fine, be that way,"

In less than ten seconds, he spoke up and asked, "What about you?"

"Why should _I_ tell _you_?" She countered.

"Alright," he held a hand up to gesture for her to listen. "I'll tell you my reason, and in exchange, you'll tell me your own."

She actually found that agreement agreeable. "Alright, I'm in."

"You first."

"Seriously?" She raised an eyebrow at him. Vic merely shrugged and gestured that he was waiting. She growled and reluctantly gave in. "I pissed off one of the teachers."

"What'd you do?"

"I indirectly told her to fuck off."

He appeared to be slightly bemused. "Who was it?"

"Recognize Mrs. Casey?"

His eyes grew wide and he sat a bit up in his seat. " _That_ bitch? Seriously? She's been giving us hell since first grade."

She actually felt rather prideful when thinking back about it. "Yeah, it was time someone told her that. Now," she leaned forth and placed her elbow on her knee to lean on it. "What did you do?"

"Got into a fight with one of my classmates." He answered earnestly. "Fucking asshole never keeps his mouth shut."

"As much as I don't like feeble fights, I cannot actually say that I want to get involved in it," she admitted. "Getting into problems like that's more trouble than it's worth, though I would be lying if I didn't say it's satisfying as fuck."

"Agreed," Suddenly, Vic stood up from his seat and went over to the window providing them with a view of the front schoolyard. "How long have you been waiting here?"

She blinked confused at what he was indicating. "Almost half the day. The principal hasn't shown up even once."

"Then that settles it," and before she could even question what he had meant, he grabbed the bottom of the window and forced it up the entire way. "I'm getting the hell out of here."

"Make room, blondie," she commanded and grabbed her bag, and before he turned around to ask what she was indicating, Cassie brushed past him and jumped out of the window, landing on the ground without too much pain beneath her feet. She didn't care if the teachers would have her head for this or if her parents got to know about her skipping class. They were on the brink of summer vacation and it was during that time that she was on the laziest she had ever been before.

As soon as she landed on the ground, she moved a couple of steps away and made room for the next person to jump out. Right on time, just where she had previously landed, Vic did the same though less ceremoniously, even going as far as to roll on his stomach once he came. Cassie watched him get up with an unimpressed look and clapped her hands together sarcastically for his performance. "Bravo, Jumbo," she said, earning yet another dirty look from him. "1989's best athlete ever, beating Nathaniel Richardson by merely ten points. Give him an applause, guys."

Rather than replying in annoyance, Vic actually seemed rather confused about what she had just said. "Who the hell's Nathaniel Richardson?"

Realizing what she had just spilled out, Cassie stopped clapping and shook her head. "Just a friend from back in the south."

"South? Where the fuck are you from?"

"North Carolina."

"All the way down there?"

"Yup," she verified. "Look, I won't tell anyone as long as you don't. Deal?"

For a moment he just looked at her before he nodded in agreement. "Deal, and stay the fuck away from me."

She held her left middle finger up at him. "With that hair, you don't even have to ask."

 _"Fuck you,"_

 _"Fuck you,"_

They didn't even realize they had spoken in unison, and by the time they did they shunned away from each other, making sure to stay at least six feet away from each other as if fearing that the other may be contagious or something. However, before she left, Cassie cast him another sharp look and said, "Just remember, I won't hesitate to kick all of your asses if you mess with me or those I'm with. _Comprende_?"

He scoffed and gave her a look of disbelief. "As if, with those noodle arms of yours."

"Go fuck a cow,"

"Ladies first,"

"Exactly."

And before any of them said anything else, they both went their separate ways, Cassie towards the way to her own home whilst Vic headed towards God knew where. As idiotic as it seemed, one of the assholes she knew about had actually contributed to making her afternoon a little less unbearable, but that didn't mean she wouldn't punch his teeth in if she ever caught him pissing her off. Friendship was out of the question for sure, but for some reason, the town seemed to get a little more interesting now that she had finally found someone to piss off for once except her parents.

* * *

 _"Are you kidding? You actually skipped school again?"_

"What do you mean 'again'? I always attend school, as I did back in North Carolina."

 _"Yeah, and pigs can fly."_ He scoffed sarcastically.

"Hey, I waited for three damned hours for that supposed principal to arrive, and would you guess it, he never did! What was I supposed to do?"

 _"So, you decided to ditch school with one of those assholes that tried to chase your sorry ass two days ago?"_

"I didn't ditch anything _with_ him, Nathan."

"Likely story. Who'd think you'd gain a crush so soon?"

"Screw you, Nathan."

 _"I'm joking, you know that, Cas."_

She snorted. "Yeah, yeah,"

 _"Anyway, I gotta go. My... Mom is calling for me. Talk to you later."_

"Alright, talk to yo-"

 _Beep, beep, beep_

He had already hung up before she got to finish her sentence, confusing Cassie as she drew the phone away and placed it back on the table. "... Okay."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own IT**

 **Blog:** _www . Wood - White - Writer . Tumblr . com_

* * *

 **Chapter 5: A Friend in need is a Friend indeed**

* * *

The same day, Cassie had anticipated that her mother would sooner or later hear about her absence from school and give her hell for it. It was always like that whenever she 'misbehaved' at school.

It turned out that it was correct and that her mother had been contacted by the school. Mrs. Casey had specifically told her about the incident in the middle of the class.

When Claudia had called Cassie down from her bedroom, she almost expected being punished for what she had done. However, once she went downstairs and was met with her mother deep eyes, she heard neither shouting nor accusations.

Instead, her mother had looked at her with tired eyes and simply asked her softly, "Did you do it?" It was neither a demand nor a yell, but a simple question. No emotion was detected in her tone and that was unusual coming from her mother.

Cassie scratched the back of her head, a natural habit of hers which tended to repeat itself whenever she was uncertain or in an awkward situation. She could only imagine the scorn she would have in waiting.

"... Yeah."

Shout, scream, even hit, but her mother did none of the above. Instead, Claudia simply sighed wearily and brushed past her daughter, her only child, without even looking her way as she exited the kitchen. "I'll be going to the grocery store to buy some stuff. Don't bother your father, he's in his study."

Not knowing what to perceive of the alien situation, Cassie could merely reply with a nod as she turned her head around to watch her mother left the house, quietly shutting the door behind her. Silence turned into her only companion as the home she had yet to call hers became almost as vacant as it was the first time she stepped inside it.

"What the hell?" She asked nothingness as if expecting an answer in return. She received none. As she was about to walk up the stairs and return back to her bedroom, there came a sudden knocking from the door, alarming her about the presence of someone else. Cassie came to an abrupt halt in the midst of the stairs before she acknowledged the knocking, and once she did, she was less than motivated to open it.

However, for some unfathomable reason, she lost the argument with herself and turned back to go open it. Needless to say, who she met was well beyond her expectations of whom it could have been.

It was nothing. No one stood there. Pulling her head out from left to right repeatedly, Cassie scanned the perimeter for anyone willing to pull her leg like some immature grade schooler, but there was no one there no matter how many times she looked.

"Who the fuck is here?" She asked aloud, but like always, received no answer. Scoffing in annoyance, she shut the door and resumed to going up the stairs towards her room again, and was not interrupted by anything this time. It was four o'clock and there was genuinely nothing she could think of which would rob her of her boredom and apathy. Back in Asheville, it was equally boring, but at least she had Nathan to hang about.

Now she was alone.

* * *

The week went relatively well, with the exception of the fact that her mother still forced her to go to school, having dropped a severely large amount of the submissiveness she was in the possession earlier in the week. Now she was back to her usual demanding self, though Cassie was still able to detect some of those feeble characteristics she had displayed earlier.

She spent the days hanging around campus without doing too much of the social interaction crap. She would occasionally be greeted by other students she would be forced to endure after the summer had ended and there were those times where Tozier and his other buddies would say hey to her and just resume with their own day. Friendship was a burden if it was uncertain, and she didn't think she had even reached that level yet. Didn't seem like it, nor was she desperate for it either.

She initially intended on sticking out of trouble, avoiding potential scenarios where she knew would either result with her ending up in the principal's office again or get overpowered by the Bowers gang and their pack of stray animals. Yes, she had been seeing them occasionally and it seemed like they recognized her as well, but it didn't really seem like they were entirely over what had happened the previous week just because they stuck to themselves for the majority of the time.

They would eye her in the hallways, out in the schoolyard, or even as she had to enter the damned lady's room to piss. Creepy would be considered an understatement of the lowest sort. They never did anything, but she could tell that they weren't the guys to easily rid themselves of grudges. Particularly Hockstetter was looking at her with a rather lecherous look which made her nauseous to the bottom of her abdomen.

When Friday finally arrived and the bell rang, signalizing to all of the students that summer was finally there and they could get the hell out, Cassie made sure to dump the stuff the school had provided her with throughout the week into the trashcan outside of her classroom before she turned to leave to get to the girl's bathroom. Too many bottles of water because of the heat outside took their toll on her bladder.

Unfortunately, just as she away from the trash, she unintentionally crashed into the shoulder of someone she was unable to recognize who was until she turned to look back at them. "Hey, watch where you're goin-" Without being able to finish her irritable statement, her eyes got locked with those belonging to no one but Bowers himself.

Shit.

"Well, look who it is. It's the new girl." He said and stalked towards her, to which she took a cautious step back but didn't go any further than that before she felt someone else crash into her back. It wouldn't require a second guess in order to figure out who the tall figure behind her belonged to.

"Well, what do you know," she muttered and took a large step away from the both of those she had had the unfortunate luck of encountering. Both Henry Bowers and Patrick Hockstetter were standing there, less than six feet away, like predators circling another one. There was no way she was portraying herself as a vulnerable prey. She scoffed and let out a taunting chuckle, "It's Cowers and Cockstetter. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

It came to her knowledge that she had hit a nerve when Bowers' left eye twitched twice from the muscle beneath, and she would have taken a picture to make the memory of how utterly pissed and ridiculous he looked like whilst standing there if it wasn't for the fact that she didn't have her camera there. A wasted opportunity. Hockstetter, on the other hand of his companion, could not look anymore enticed, which made her really wish he would turn around just so she could be spared the mercy of looking at his disgusting leer anymore.

"Just so you know, Hayes," Bowers spoke up, taking a new step towards her, blocking the middle of the entire hallway to the point where other students chose to walk around him rather than confronting him about moving his ass away from the hall. He truly was infamous around campus. "You're dead the second you step out of the building."

"So are you. Anyway, I have some business to tend to, if you would excuse me," she then proceeded to push past him and head for the direction which led to the bathrooms, effectively dodging Hockstetter as well in the process. Fortunately for her, before either of them could get the idea of stalking after her, more students began to conquer the hallways and block their path towards her.

Cassie sighed in relief and felt as if she had just dodged a bullet, or a knife, in that very second. She was no coward when it came to straightforward confrontations, but she wasn't bold enough to enter a fight where she knew she was obviously overpowered. It would lead to nothing but foolish, something she could not afford to tend to at the start of the summer. She didn't want to.

However, when she reached the corridor into the bathroom stalls and entered without as much as waiting to hear whether someone else were already inside, Cassie was met with the sight of three other girls, all of them who were positioned outside one of the stalls in particular. One of them was filling a trash bag with water from one of the faucets whilst the other one was kicking down the locked stall in question.

Seeing it as what was happening didn't involve herself and that the other stalls were unoccupied, Cassie's first intentions were to just ignore the dramatic events and do her business without interfering. The girl with the blonde ponytail suddenly kicked the door again, causing Cassie to pause for a brief moment to witness what the fuck was going on before judging what to do or not to do.

"Are you in there by yourself, _Beeverly_ , or have you got half the school in with you there, huh, slut?" Asked the girl, whom she was faintly able to recognize as one of the students from a parallel class. Judging by her pissy attitude and either purposefully or idiotically pronunciation of the name Cassie assumed was Beverly, she wasn't the very innocent little flower girl of the bunch.

Cassie ended up speaking up anyway, "Hey,"

"Yeah, what is it?" Asked the same girl and turned to look at Cassie with a deadpan look of aggravation. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"If I couldn't, I wouldn't have stopped you, would I? Who's in the stall?" Cassie crossed her arms firmly and tilted her head towards the stall, waiting for an answer, something the girl seemed too agitated to do without adding some sort of curse word.

"A slut and a little shit," answered the girl as she simultaneously kicked in the door. "I'm gonna get her out of there."

"What'd she do?" Asked Cassie.

"More like who'd she do," replied the girl who was filling the trash bag full of water from the faucet. "We're just gonna teach her a lesson."

Cassie furrowed her eyebrows. "With a trash bag?"

"Call it discipline. Everyone needs it," said the girl with the ponytail and kicked the door again. "I know you're in there, little slut! I can smell you."

Despite finding the girl to be tremendously irritating to listen to, Cassie could faintly smell the scent of a burnt cigarette from inside the stall.

"No wonder you don't have any friends!" Shouted the girl just as the one by the faucet was done with filling the bag with water. Cassie narrowed her eyes suspiciously at this. It couldn't mean anything good.

"What is it, Greta?" Asked a quiet yet surprisingly composed voice from the other side of the stall, having clearly been annoyed with the constant slangs thrown around her. "Am I a slut or a little shit? Make up your mind."

Just as she had said that, whoever was in the stall, the girl by the faucet dumped the trash bag out of the can and started dragging it towards the next stall. Cassie cursed herself yet again for what she was about to do before she actually did it. Before the girl could as much as reach the door next to the stall, Cassie walked up, grabbed her by the wrists and forced her to let go of it, spilling all of the content on the floor and soaking their shoes.

"Hey, what the-"

"Get lost," Cassie said dangerously low as she glared menacingly at the girl, tightening her grip on her wrist to the point where it felt like a twig about to snap. Cassie had never been physically strong when it came to people like Nathan or Bowers, but when it came to girls who couldn't even lift a ten-pound bag of shit without getting lost of breath then it didn't require much effort to overpower them. Although words were proven to be the most efficient way to keep them at bay.

However, seeing it as the girl looked scared enough to piss her pants and there was no need to hurt a little pissant as her, Cassie soon let go and allowed her to sprint out of the room, leaving the other two behind. The blonde ponytail girl, Greta, turned around to face her and seemed both pissed and lost of words. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Leave," was all Cassie said as she proceeded to crack her knuckles. "Or we'll see who the little shit is."

At first, both of the girls seemed reluctant to leave, but a wave of fear soon washed over their features and it didn't take long before they were both out of there.

As soon as they left, Cassie sighed and knocked thrice at the stall door to the girl who was currently in there. "Hey, you," she said in an attempt to assure her to the best of her ability, though she visibly failed miserably at it. "They're gone." That was all it took before the handle of the door twisted and revealed a rather pretty girl sitting inside with a recently stumped-out cigarette in her right hand.

Despite wanting to stay there and make sure that the girl was alright, all Cassie wanted to do was go home, nothing but that. She didn't have time to make sure that everyone's well-being was stable, especially her own. Instead of waiting for the girl to exit and show her appreciation, or whatever else she wanted to do, Cassie exited the bathroom and decided to just leave without further problems preventing her from doing so, despite feeling her nerves crumble beneath her mother's demanding authority at the house.

However, over the course of the past couple of days, she had begun to notice changes in Claudia's behavior.

She wasn't as aggressive or hysterically borderline anymore like she used to be. She was growing distant, more than she usually was. Claudia would spend hours on end in town, barely acknowledging her daughter during the little amount of time she did spend in the house. Her father, being the useless piece of shit that he was, spent the majority of his time at home watching the television, never going outside unless he was in need of some liquor or was called by the discipline committee to come teach some punks some shit. That was something he failed at seeing it as Bowers and his gang still roamed around.

It was odd at first but she didn't think much of it. Perhaps her mother simply had stopped caring and just given in to the fact that regardless of what kind of discipline she would prefer to exploit, Cassie's behavior would remain unchangeable. To think that the possibility of that would be even plausible was idiotic to its core. They all knew that.

Cassie exited the doors of the school and felt the resonating sun from above begin to heat her exposed arms as soon as she stepped into its radar. "Well, fuck you too, sun." She scowled and made a beeline towards the bus, that she only realized then had already begun departing. If she had known that stepping ahead to help the girl would cost her her ride then she might have just ignored the entire drama and just left at once.

In a panicked state, she waved her arms over her head and began shouting at the driver, whom she was uncertain of was able to notice her standing there like a frantic maniac, "Wait!"

Too late. The bus had already started driving away and was soon out of sight, the driver hadn't even glanced her way, which meant that she would have to walk home from school that day. Though she usually had nothing against exploiting her legs for that matter, the blazing sun would not make it very enjoyable. Besides, now her chances of encountering Bowers and his pack of bitches would increase drastically. She had to get home sooner or later, as much as she dreaded the thought.

It was a curfew at 7 pm because of the recent disappearances in town, the ones which made all the inhabitants seem like ignorant dingbats for ignoring them. Parents should have been more careful when letting their kids out of their sight. Hell, she even saw Betty Ripsom's mom still waiting for her daughter to come out of school even though she had been missing for the past weeks. It didn't take a lot of effort to spot the missing posters scattered around town, but it did agitate her that no one seemed to care.

Gripping the straps of her bag to adjust them over the shoulder, she was just about to leave when she heard a familiar cackle from not too far away.

"You s-s-s-s-s-say something, B-B-B-B-Billy?"

It wasn't a genuine stuttering. It was a taunting, and one rather laughable one at that. It was a poor imitation, and whoever owned it would need to take three semesters of drama and acting just to become even remotely close to making it sound like the one he was attempting at emulating.

Cassie exhaled and was tempted not to facepalm. "Fucking Bowers,"

"You got a free ride this year because of your little brother," Bowers said as he approached Denbrough, each step increasing the latter's chances of getting a seriously large warning or worse, but she doubted that even he would be stupid enough to do it openly in public when the cops were close by, especially considering that his own father was one of them. "But ride's over, Denbrough."

He was unable to take any further steps as the cops noted the situation and eyed Bowers' warningly, preventing him from doing anything whilst they were watching. Bowers visibly grew fearful of one of the cops in particular and resorted to taking a step back, but not before disgustingly licking his hand and smearing it across Denbrough's face.

Cassie fought down the nausea that was threatening to make its way up her stomach. Soon after, all of the members of the Bowers gang left with their car and the group of boys that had been their current targets watched them leave school ground with a sense of both relief and worry. They knew it wouldn't be the last they'd see from those idiots.

Taking the chance once the Bowers gang were entirely out of sight, Cassie turned away and started heading towards the way which led to her house. She was not looking forward to the heat at all.

* * *

"I'm back," Cassie called wearily as she shut the door behind her, expecting to her mother to immediately show herself in the doorframe of the living room. She didn't. "Hello?" She attempted at calling again, a little louder now than previously. Pulling her shoes off, she walked into the living room and scrutinized the darkened space, finding no sign of life anywhere there. She eventually reached the kitchen and found ten dollars along with a note on the counter.

 **Will come home late**

 **Dad is working as well**

 **Go to the pharmacy**

 **Buy** _ **Acetaminophen**_

 **\- Mom**

Cassie furrowed her eyebrows and grabbed the note, closely examining the second last word her mother had written. "She wants me to buy Acetamo-what? What the hell kind of..." Her mother was never specific about what kind of stuff she wanted Cassie to buy whenever she asked her to buy something from the store, especially when it came to medicine. All that Latin crap was something that churned her head into porridge.

"Why does she even need the Acemo-whatever it is?" Usually, the only medicine her mother ever bought was for the treatment towards headaches and such.

She couldn't think of what was preferable above the other. Having a mother that didn't care or not having a mother at all? It was probably selfish to think that way when so many other children desperately wanted someone to take care of them, to love them unconditionally. She wasn't unappreciative over what her parents had given her throughout her life or anything like that. She did care about Claudia like a daughter should, as well with her father, despite how useless he was.

Her father had been the one to provide Cassie with the very first book she had ever owned when she was only three years old since he wanted his child to grow up literate from an early age, which she succeeded at, and she also recalled the day where her mother actually smiled upon hearing that Cassie had won the spelling competition in primary school. That was the first time she had ever truly seen her mother smile when in her presence. Now every ounce of happiness was replaced with disappointment.

Deciding not to waste any more time with pointless reminiscing, Cassie grabbed the ten bucks and scurried out of her house, almost forgetting to lock the door behind her as she exited the door in a hurry. She was fortunate enough to remember to bring her hat along with her as she strolled down the road towards town, otherwise, she might have gotten more sunburnt in her face than she already was on her arms and legs.

* * *

The pharmacy in town was a lousy placed called Centre Street Drug Store and was operated by one of the lousiest people Cassie swore she had ever seen her entire life, but she bit down the yearn to admit that statement aloud and resumed with searching for the medicine her mother had requested that she bought for her with the money.

She searched all the shelves she could find around in the place, everything from the ones with bandages and cotton to the ones with birth control pills and the likes, which Cassie didn't spend more time around than required. She didn't know if she was just naive or too immature to know, but she didn't quite see the need for stuff like pills and condoms. Why fuck someone unless you wanted to get knocked up in the first place? That was a question she had debated with herself on multiple occasions whether or not was appropriate to ask her mother, but she didn't want to risk becoming deaf from the shouting she would undoubtedly receive.

After searching for several minutes of searching without any luck, Cassie breathed out and understood that she would need to ask the clerk himself if she wanted to get anywhere. Turning around the next shelf, she expected to see a clear path empty of any other customers. However, much to her bewilderment, a person she didn't expect to see stood there. It was the same girl from the girl's bathroom stall earlier.

The girl seemed to notice her out of her peripheral vision and took a step back against the shelf behind her, making some more room for her to walk through. "Sorry, I'll just-" Before the girl could finish her sentence, Cassie's eyes landed on the shelves in front of her and a weak blush crept up her face as they acknowledged what they were. Pads, tampons, all sort of stuff like that.

Sensing the girl looking at her with an awkward look, Cassie quickly coughed and shadowed her face with her hand. "... Oh. I'll just be going-"

"What kind do you use?" The girl blurted out suddenly, flustered with herself.

Cassie tilted her head to the side in confusion. "What?"

The girl seemed embarrassed about talking about her ordeal, something which Cassie could actually sympathize with.

"I haven't had it before, so I was wondering if you had any recommendations if it's not too awkward to ask. That is if you've... You know..."

Cassie halted for a second and started folding her hands over one another, not really knowing how to answer that. "Well, I haven't really... I mean, I _have_ , but..." Hell, this was inconvenient. She had never really talked to someone about her menstrual periods, not even her mother with the exception of when she first got it in the shower and thought she was bleeding to death. Her mother had impatiently explained to her that as long as she kept track of it once a month or so then she would be fine, nothing more and nothing less. She never had any other girls to explain it to even though she knew it was a natural thing for human females to experience during their adolescent. It didn't make it any less tricky to speak of though. A taboo subject, of sorts. "I kinda just use pads whenever I get them, like those over there,"

She proceeded to point at the navy-blue-colored ones at the bottom-half of the shelf. The girl followed her gaze and precariously grabbed a box, looking over at Cassie with a grateful smile. "Thanks."

"Uhm, no problem."

"I remember you from earlier in school. You were the one who got Greta away." The girl reached switched her pack of pads into her other hand and reached her free one forth. "I'm Beverly, by the way. I didn't get to thank you properly."

Cassie took it gently and shook it, smiling as well with a hint of uncertainty. "Cassie. Don't mention it."

"You're new here?" She asked. "I haven't seen you before."

"Yeah, just recently moved here."

"Ah, like that other boy?

"What boy?"

"I think his name's Ben."

"Ben? Haven't heard about him," Instead of dawdling there without purpose, Cassie quickly remembered what she was supposed to look for and shifted around, headed for the clerk behind the desk, "I've just gotta go buy something-"

The sound of scurrying moving objects from a few rows beside their own caught both of their attention. Whoever it was sure sounded like they were in a hurry, or in a very desperate situation. Cassie and Beverly shared a look before their curiosity got ahead of them and had them indulge in whatever was going on.

The second they entered the third shelve, effectively dodging Greta Keene in the process, much to the relief of Beverly, Cassie felt like groaning in exasperation upon seeing two out of three of the boys she recently seemed to have the habit of constantly encountering one way or the other. The only difference this time was that Tozier was excluded from the group for some reason, and in his place stood a boy with curly hair and with visibly pale skin.

"You've gotta be joking with me," she grunted and clasped a hand over her face as Beverly hid the box of pads behind her back in embarrassment. Seemingly having acknowledged their presence, all the boys stopped with whatever they were doing and looked at them with questionable facial features, something between nervousness to lack of answers to what they were supposed to do. Cassie removed the hand from her face and looked suspiciously over at the products currently overwhelming the arms of smallest guy of the bunch.

"Y-You okay?" Denbrough asked.

"I'm fine," answered Beverly and eyed their supplies. "What's it with you?"

"None of your business," answered the curly-haired boy boldly despite the fact that his face revealed it all. He was just as edgy as the rest of them were.

Finally, the smallest guy spoke up, "There's a kid outside who looks like someone killed him."

"W-We need some _sssup-supplies,_ but we don't have enough money." Denbrough finished and seemed to hesitate before he continued with something else. "Y-You d-d-don't have some spare c-changes, d-d-d-do you?"

For a second there, Cassie almost felt tempted to just give them the money she had and forget her mother, but she knew she couldn't. Besides, judging by the number of supplies they were in need of, she even doubted that ten bucks would be enough to afford for them. She shrugged and said, "Sorry, guys. Don't have enough for all that." She didn't know why, but it seemed as if it had become a habit of hers to help those strangers during every ordeal that faced them. There was the situation with Bowers' car, the principal's office, and Beverly's problem with those girls in the bathroom. When did it become such a need for her to help a couple of strangers?

"T-T-That's f-f-f-fin-"

"However," she interrupted him and sighed annoyed, crossing her arms and cursing herself for what she was about to do _again_. She opened her eyes and looked at all of them sharply, to which they returned with nervous looks. "Grab whatever you need and do it fast." She pushed herself through the three boys without warning and headed up towards the main desk, where the clerk sat and read disinterestedly in a Vogue magazine.

He didn't seem to notice her until she finally reached the front of the desk, abruptly clasped a hand over her chest and began to gasp exaggeratedly loud, "I... I can't breathe... I think I'm gonna..." Without finishing her sentence, Cassie fell to the floor on her back, producing a loud thump from the impact with the ground. It hurt, but she couldn't risk exposing herself so soon.

"Oh my god!" She struggled not to laugh as the clerk finally moved his lazy ass over to her side, looking quite frantic and panicked as expected of someone with even a remote amount of empathy for youngsters. "Are you alright?"

"I... I can't breathe..." She breathed out dramatically blinked wearily, looking up at the ceiling past his ugly face. "I see a light. Grandma, is that you?"

"Don't worry! I'll call the hospital! They'll get here! Just hang on!"

 _Wow_ , she thought, _for someone who runs a pharmacy you sure are useless._

When she heard the footsteps belonging to the boys and possibly Beverly leave, not before clumsily crashing into one of the shelves on their way out, Cassie immediately sat straight and threw her arms in the air. " _Eureka_! I'm cured! I have never felt more alive!" She turned back to the clerk and flashed him a wide grin. He stuttered and didn't know what to think of the situation. "Thank you so much, good sir! You're a lifesaver! I'll be sure not to forget to eat breakfast from now, I promise!"

"I-I hope so," answered the clerk and readjusted his glasses on the tip of his nose before they both got up on their knees.

"Now," she said and held the money up, not even sparing him a moment to gather his thoughts as she asked sweetly. "You wouldn't happen to have some _Acetampon_ \- or whatever?"

"... What?"

* * *

Cassie exited a few moments later with a small bag of pills in her hands, rounding around the corner to find the others gathered together in one fine crowd. She prepared to open her mouth to say something about their situation but stopped upon seeing a rather overweight kid bleeding from both his nose and his stomach, with what seemed like a carved wound on the latter. The smallest of the bunch was bandaging his wound and stopping the bleeding.

That image was disturbing, to say the least, and she quickly hurried up over to them.

"Holy shit, what the fuck happened to you?" She asked wide-eyed as she continued to eye the blood.

The boy who was being tended to quickly looked away and avoided her gaze, as if he was afraid that she was Medusa with the evil eye. "It's nothing," he mumbled.

"Poor motherfucker ran into Henry Bowers," said Tozier, whom she had first acknowledged then.

"Bowers? Really? That piece of shit?" It shouldn't have come as a surprise, but seeing that boy in such a miserable state only verified what lengths he was willing to go to in order to satisfy his sadistic needs. He was cruelty personified.

She looked over at the boy again and asked, more sincerely than she knew she was capable of. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered meekly.

"No, he's not alright," said Tozier aloud. "Motherfucker's bleeding hamburger helpers!"

"What did he even chase you for?"

"For being... Fat..."

As soon as she heard that, Cassie felt threatened to literally beat the shit out of the brick wall beside her, and she could feel the rage boil her blood up to a dangerously high temperature. Bullying someone for appearances was one thing, but choosing someone who was obviously not strong enough was just unbelievable. It was certain that her cynicism increased by each day she stayed in that wretched town. "Are you _fucking_ serious? Son of a motherfucking piece of bullshit went _that_ far?"

"Wow, I didn't know a lady's vocabulary reached that far!" Tozier exclaimed, placing both of his arms on top of his head.

"Lady my ass." She growled.

"Wiser words have never been spoken,"

As much as she wanted to go on a rampage directly towards Bowers and give him a good reminder of what a pissant he was, Cassie knew better than to cause any more problems and involve herself in them. She had her medicine, she would need to leave.

She calmed her temper down and took a deep breath. "I have to leave now, but try not to get killed anymore. There have been three occasions where you've almost been dog food during the few days I've been here. Either you're incredibly stupid or just suicidal to the core."

"W-W-We'll be fine from here," Denbrough stuttered with a conversational smile. "Thanks for the help."

Surprised to hear him thank her so genuinely, Cassie could merely nod in return as she turned around and prepared to walk home, waving her hand as she called over her shoulder. "No problem, just try not to get killed anymore. I'm sure I'll see you later somewhere getting your asses kicked or something."

"Yeah, and remember to watch that mouth with soap once you get home!" Tozier shouted, causing her to unintentionally chuckle and hold her middle finger up in the air without turning around.

"Fuck you, Tozier!"

"One day, my dear! One day!"

Cassandra Hayes was a girl known for never forming bonds very easily, but as much as she tried to deny that fact, she might have established something close to it that afternoon the summer of 1989 began.

* * *

By the time she was walking home, the sun had begun to set, and the heat steadily began to reduce itself as shadows cast themselves over the small town. It was quiet around her with the exception of a pair of dog walkers and occasional sportsmen that would jog into her as if she was mere transparent air.

She thought back at the group and suddenly found herself smiling fondly at the memory of getting to know them. For a bunch of nerds to be, they seemed much more approachable than most of the other children in town did. If the town ostracized those they deemed as trivial leftovers of the norm and of worth, then she wouldn't mind joining them anytime soon instead of blending in with the crowd.

Still, there was a part of her that hesitated. It had always been a routine in her past that whenever someone befriended her or vice versa there would always be something that would split them apart sooner or later, whether it was moving away like she herself had done, getting new friends, or simply ignoring them when their use had gotten expired. It was like a curse with no end.

As she snapped back into reality, Cassie realized that she had taken the wrong turn and had ended up on the road leading back to Neibolt Street. She could vaguely spot the burnt down home at the end of the street, just standing there abandoned, unused, and like a waste of space.

Before she turned back to resume with the road which led to her house, she paused for a minute to think of how the house would've looked like if it had never burned down and if it was still used. Maybe it wouldn't have looked so deserted outside. Nature could have showered the garden in green and the tree would've been climbed on by many of the children in the area. An old man could live there alone with his cat or dog, or an entire family could have moved in and made it a memory lane of a lifetime.

But that wasn't the case. It was still, and would surely remain, just a burnt down, abandoned house in the end.

 _"Why are you leaving, Cassie?"_

Just as she had taken a couple of steps in the opposite direction, a voice caused her to halt again. Had someone just called her name?

She turned around again and scanned the area of anyone, but there was no one there that could've been the owner of that voice.

Cassie scoffed to herself and chuckled, "You're becoming nuts, Hayes."

 _"Nuts, nuts, NUTS! I'm nuts! Are you becoming nuts too, Cassie? We can be nuts together!"_

Alright, this was becoming ridiculous. Without turning at first, she called aggravated and aloud, "Alright, whoever's out there," and she finally shifted around to face whoever was pulling her leg. "You better sto-"

She never got that far, not before her sight positioned its focus on a familiar, red balloon hovering above the asphalt, just floating there without moving away. There was no wind outside as far as she could feel, but she would at least anticipate for the balloon to float somewhere else but one spot alone.

"What the hell..." She was at a loss for words as she stood there, her mind racing between the dilemma of fight or flight. But what there to fight against? It was just a simple balloon, not a maniac or a slasher from one of those horror movies she enjoyed watching with Nathan during Halloween. Did she have a reason to be afraid? That voice must have simply been a fragment of her unyielding imagination whereas the balloon just ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Surely there wasn't a connection, right?

Deciding not to stick around any longer, Cassie huffed and started walking away again without looking back.

 _"Why are you leaving me, Cassie? Your parents won't mind if you stay a little longer. They're too busy with other stuff. They won't care. Come join the circus with me, Cassie. We'll have so much fun."_

"I did _not_ just hear that," she attempted at convincing herself, quickening up her pace whilst feeling panic and fear increase inside her. "I did _not_ hear that.

 _"Why are you leaving me again, Cassie? Don't you want a balloon?"_

She immediately started running, not caring where just as long as it was far away from the street.

But the voice didn't stop. It never did.

 _"Don't you want a balloon, Cassie?"_

"I don't want your _fucking_ balloon!"

The second she reached her porch, she slammed the door into her house open and shut it as soon as she got inside, not even bothering to check behind her as she made sure to lock it.

Her heart was throbbing painfully against her ribcages as if it was about to burst out of her chest. Her eyes were wide with fear and sweat was pouring from her forehead, but not from the heat.

"I think..." She murmured softly as she headed up the stairs, surprisingly composed, though there were twitching in her movements. "I think I'll just go to bed. Yeah, I'm probably just tired. That's all. It _has_ to be."

Little did she know that it wasn't the case. They would all float in the end.

* * *

 _The children were playing along with one another in the middle of the schoolyard, singing and dancing in one happy circle together, oblivious to all the evil and the unfortunate events that were occurring around in the world at the very same moment. That was how children were. They were oblivious, naive, stupid, in a way. The best part about them was that they were so easily filled with so much fear. Such sweet, sweet, delicious fear._

 _Then there was her. The **child** that didn't fear. The wretched brat who was somehow never affected by his illusions or his games like the other brats in the village were._

 _He couldn't devour her just yet, not when there wasn't an ounce of fear to find within her. It would be like eating raw flesh bare from the bone, unseasoned and unedible._

 _As the children kept playing their silly games in the middle of town, talking and chatting about trivial stuff he couldn't bother to care any less about, his eyes landed on a young child beneath the tree. She was dull, uninterested, a wallflower with no friends to keep her company._

 _He had watched her for some time, tried to find a loophole which he could crawl through and draw out the fear to season the meat._

 _He hadn't found it, not even when she was asleep. Nightmares were inefficient, useless. Scaring the other children was child's play, but where was the fun in easy prey unless it was desperately required?_

 _Winter had just arrived and the citizens of what would be later known as Derry became scarce of food and resources, eventually dividing the remainder of everything between the men, women, and children. The men were provided with the most sustenance, the women were second rate, and the children were considered inconsequential._

 _He had watched them become so skeletal and starved as a result, most of them were even crying at night out of hunger or prayed to that worthless God of their for help. It couldn't bring him more delight to listen to their pathetic wails, but he had other matters to prioritize._

 _The only child that neither cried nor begged to whatever God existed to bring them food was the one child he had been unable to affect in any way._

 _But he had to hurry. Time was passing and he felt himself growing starved as well. There were at times where he was forced to eat, just a quick look of fear before devouring the unfortunate prey, but it still wasn't enough._

 _He would eagerly anticipate for the desert._

 _And he would have it despite whatever that old, lazy, stupid, damned **Turtle** had planned._

 _"The Turtle can't help you."_


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own IT**

 **By the way, Coulrophobia has a blog now dedicated to the Fanfiction where I will be posting pictures and gifs regarding the story. Feel free to check it out!**

 **Blog:** _www . Wood - White - Writer . Tumblr . com_

* * *

 **Chapter 6: An Eye for an Eye, a Tooth for a Tooth**

* * *

Daylight soon turned into late and whilst Stan, Eddie, and Ben went home for the day, Bill joined Richie as they walked to his house together. Because the supposed 'death' of his little brother Georgie still affected his grief-stricken parents to the point where they neglected their oldest child, he didn't feel like forcing himself to endure their pain like a whole group of miserable individuals all-together. He was hurt too, but he didn't believe that Georgie was dead yet. He just couldn't.

"So, then we'll meet at the quarry tomorrow afternoon, right?" Richie asked his best friend and broke the semi-awkward silent that had somehow interrupted their usually lively conversations. Instead of riding their bikes back to his house, they had both agreed on walking since it would take longer to reach their destination. None of them really wanted to go home.

Bill looked over to Richie from his left and nodded eagerly, trying to lighten the mood somewhat despite feeling rather melancholic on his own thoughts about Georgie. He could at least attempt at making the summer a bearable one without consistently bringing down the mood. "Y-Y-Yeah, w-we could bring some _sssssnacks_ as well."

Richie grinned from ear to ear, nodding approvingly at his companion's suggestion. "Cool, I'll be sure to bring some soda as well." He said and held his thumbs up.

"A-A-Alright, hear with the others tomorrow if we can go to the grocery store and b-buy something b-b-b-before they leave t-t-t-too." Bill was looking forward to tomorrow, primarily because he was, for once, able to enjoy himself with his friends and try to forget the tragedy that had struck his family. "I h-hope Beverly can make it," he mumbled to himself. He didn't believe in the rumors everyone had spread around school, mainly because he wouldn't fall that far to believe petty words. Everyone in Derry had a knack for lowering each others reputation, such as how Butch Bowers, Henry Bowers' father, consistently cast racial slurs to the Hanlon family.

Although believing it to be a subtle statement only he could acknowledge, he was soon proven wrong when Richie nudged him teasingly to the ribs. "For a girl, I don't think she'll miss hanging around us guys, if you know what I mean."

"I-I don't think it's about the fact that we're b-boys," Bill admitted steadily and tilted his head to the side, and abruptly stopped walking beside Richie.

The latter noticed his speed deteriorating to a nonexistent point and stopped walking as well, turning his head around as well to hear what his friend was about to say.

"I think it's b-because s-s-s-she doesn't have anyone e-e-else." Bill's tone dropped to a pitiful level, and as he looked down at Richie several feet in front of him, he couldn't help but notice how oddly he was gazing at him. It felt like it was an amalgamation between exaggerated confusion and annoyance, and coming from Richie, that wasn't an unusual thing.

Then, an idea popped up in the stuttering kid's head. "Y-You should invite Cassie t-t-too."

"Cassie?" Richie's eyes widened a few inches, and with the aid of his abnormally large glasses, they were twice the size they were supposed to be for an ordinary human boy. "What made you think of her of all people?"

"W-Well, like Ben, s-s-she's new here. M-M-Maybe it'd be good if we invited h-h-h-her along." Bill suggested timidly, to which Richie shook his head twice the range it was supposed to. Exaggeration was an attribute Richie was associated with on more than a few occasions.

"Why?" Richie asked and threw his arms dramatically towards him. "Why do we have to invite her too? One girl seems like enough." It wasn't that the Tozier boy had anything against the equally trash-mouthed girl. Hell, she had earned his respect through all the times she had bumped in and saved his ass. The first time being when she totally wrecked Bowers' car when they were picking on him and Eddie, the other time being when she saved him trouble with Mrs. Casey, the third when she aided them to retrieve the supplies from the pharmacy store. For some reason, it seemed like the Hayes girl made it a habit to encounter them when they were in some sort of troubling situation. He wasn't ungrateful, he actually appreciated her being there, but there was a limit to how much of a girl he could manage.

Bill, on the other hand, didn't seem to agree with his views. "S-She seems nice, a-a-and I think w-we should try to bef-befriend her," He then looked Richie straight in the eyes with the kind of determination which was hard to spot among the many attributes of the Denbrough boy. "B-But _I_ don't know where she lives."

Without second guessing, Richie immediately understood what he was insinuating, and needless to say, he wasn't the most enthusiastic and optimistic of the bunch when it came to agreeing with the other members. "What? No! I'm not going over there and ask 'Hey, wanna come bathe with us?'."

"W-Why not?"

"Because, genius, guess who's on Bowers' radar? If they find me with her, I'm fucked too. That's putting it mildly."

The Denbrough boy sighed, irritated with the Tozier boy's reluctance and stubbornness. If there was someone in their little group whom they could count on to make their points clear, it was Richie, though his own points tended to blur for the better judgment. Why was he so determined not to ask the Hayes girl out, with the exception of the trouble with Henry Bowers? When Richie had explained to them how she utterly destroyed their windshield, all of them, Eddie, Stan, Richie, and Bill himself, had had themselves a good laugh when thinking about it. It was clear that she wasn't afraid of the Bowers gang, but fear could easily blur for the better judgment.

Was Richie afraid? No, he couldn't be. What was there to be afraid of except Bowers?

"Come on, R-R-Richie," he reasoned. "Henry Bowers is after us anyway. W-Where's the harm in a-a-asking her?"

"No! I'm not going to! I'm not gonna fucking ask her?"

Five minutes later after consistently reasoning with his best friend, Richie groaned and clasped his hands over his face.

"Alright, _fine_! I'll ask her out! But I'm not gonna promise anything! I'll either be there tomorrow with her or by myself."

Grinning to himself, Bill savored the victory of having won the conversation with his usually stubborn friend. "G-Good."

* * *

Before she was known as Hayes, Claudia was known as Claudia Bayley, the daughter of a prostitute named Beatrice and her pimp, whom she only recalled as going by the name of Morris Bayley, from whom she had derived her surname from. It was a cursed name, one which constantly reminded her of the wretched people she had stemmed from. She wanted to lose it, and ended up losing it the same way she lost her virginity.

 _Easily_.

 _"Go fuck yourself! That's the only thing you're good at!"_

Her childhood wasn't much to brag about. The children in the same class as hers would make fun of the fact that she was a 'whore's' child and even go so far as to openly taunt her in public whenever given the opportunity. It continued like that until she graduated high school, but it wasn't long before she encountered the very person in college that became the primary source of her misery. She didn't know it at the time, though.

Her first's name had been Jonathan Brandon, a local bar clerk, and an alcoholic during his spare time, but she excluded that fact as important. There had been a nearly ten-year-gap between them, but none could care any less. The thing which often granted him the privileges of society and caused every passing female's womanhood to tremble beneath their plain panties was his handsome features and utterly captivating voice. They were the same characteristics which first caused Claudia to plunge into his web of lies, unable to escape until she lost her first child.

Their first night had been passionate and exquisite, like flesh against fire. She felt happy as she laid naked in his arms, and only from his touch alone, she was able to forget her miserable past and look forward to a promising future. He had been her first source of happiness, her anchor in the passing storm. He had been her very everything.

She quickly quit college and decided to move in with him, and they were married shortly after. Never before had Claudia Bayley, then known as Claudia Brandon, felt such contentment. It was bliss, absolute pleasure. She believed she could do anything, whether it was to fly and touch the sky or levitate and go wherever she wanted on the planet.

However, only a couple of months into her first marriage, Jonathan became the very brute she would later tremble in fear of, not of pleasure anymore. Alcoholic in his name was as natural as his three syllables. She tried to bite into it, endure it for as long as possible. She was happy, she would tell herself. He had brought her that happiness she had yearned for her entire life, even if that happiness was accompanied by violent nights and significant bruises on her thighs and bite marks on her breasts.

It was then she had begun to notice changes not only in her husband but also on herself. A couple of weeks later she had begun to grow faintly ill, vomiting a couple of times a day at a time and losing a significant amount of hair from her scalp, though less than what Jonathan usually ripped off her.

She initially discarded these signs as nothing more but temporary, but when she faintly began to notice that her abdomen started swelling up like yeast in a dough, only then did she buy the one thing she had never thought she would ever have to buy in her entire life: A test.

A couple of long minutes after she relieved herself over it, two visible lines appeared.

Claudia hadn't known what to feel about it. Happiness? Fear? Excitement? None of the above? All of them? She didn't know how to cope with the fact that she was supposed to be a mother in little less than nine months, not when her own had been quick to discard her as soon as she came of age, just before she first met Jonathan.

So she attempted to hide it from her husband at the time, and she managed it. She hid it for six solid months before her husband began to notice the swelling of her stomach. At first, she tried to cover it up, telling him that it was just some sort of stomach illness that caused it to grow like that. It didn't require much effort to convince him, neither did it require much to convince herself that everything would turn out okay.

Then came the day when her water broke, right in her apartment in the bedroom whilst her husband was in the living room, watching TV and drinking his daily amount of beer. She had screamed, cried, begged for him to call the hospital and get her out of there as soon as possible. The brute didn't even move until fifteen minutes later.

She laid in the hospital bed for several hours, screaming her lungs out and just begging for God to get whatever was in her stomach out of her as soon as possible. Then, when she finally felt the newborn child exit her womb, she hadn't heard anything. Not crying, not screaming. Nothing at all. At first, Claudia believed it was just the exhaustion weighing heavily on her ears, but it soon turned out not to be the case.

She had not even been allowed to see it. They told her that the child was born with Perinatal Hypoxia, meaning that it didn't even breathe after first getting out.

She had been young when she had her first child, but it didn't survive its birth. The revelation had crushed her entirely, making her weep its premature death for weeks on end until she was finally able to move past the unfortunate events which had occurred to her. The child's father was a brute, an alcoholic with only ecstasy and beverages on his limited mind-capacity. How was she supposed to handle her own fucked up life?

She didn't initially want it, but she eventually divorced from Jonathan and moved out of their small apartment with nothing but a few pennies in her pockets. Not long after that, she met Jeffery Hayes, a successful man at the time with limited brain-capacity but with the charisma and money she needed to make it through. She knew that their love was artificial, nonexistent, but it was easy. It didn't require much effort to get into bed with him the very first time.

She enticed him purely out on looks alone. It was the one quality from her estranged mother she could thank her for.

They were married, and soon after their honeymoon, she became pregnant again. This time she felt nothing, neither excitement nor pleasure. She was indifferent throughout the postpartum and didn't even as much as look at her second and only child as it cried for the first time in the hospital upon having escaped its mother's womb. Her husband wasn't even there at all. He was out searching for a job whereas she was suffering through the childbirth alone.

Throughout the childhood, Claudia had tried to connect with her daughter, she really had, but that sense of parental affection had been replaced with frustration and anger that had built itself up in her since the day she first escaped her own wretched mother's abdomen. Since the day all of the world's hell had made itself present to her, tortured her, agonized her.

Her daughter quickly turned out to be a nuisance of a child, both rebellious and unlike anything she had ever wanted for a child of hers. Claudia couldn't decide whether she was just picky when judging her or just too fixated on the image of a perfect family. That was all she ever wanted, a perfect family. But she knew that was unattainable with an unruly child such as her own.

Through the years, their relationship had remained at arm's length. Whilst her daughter continued to make her life more difficult with her unperfect, unladylike behavior, Claudia continued to search for a way to make her ideal life achievable. She had tried everything, but her child had never become her angel. She was, mildly spoken, a _problem_.

And now, in the present, as Claudia looked at the two visible lines on the test in her hands, she knew she could finally be able to make the dream come true. She could finally get the family life she wanted. God had finally granted her a second chance to make everything right again. Her husband had a stable job, they had moved to another state, they could make it.

Cassandra would still remain a problem, but nothing she couldn't ignore now that she had her focus set on something else.

Claudia Hayes could finally achieve the perfect life she had always begged for.

* * *

Cassie didn't get a lot of sleep that night. She kept consistently at trying to convince herself that what she had seen and heard wasn't real. None of it was. It couldn't be. In what part of America did floating balloons accompany taunting voices with them? If she had to guess, she would have never guessed the state of Maine out of all places she could have suspected. Even Massachusets seemed more suspectable.

She stayed in a frozen position on her bed, sheets drawn on her trembling frame like a blanket of suffocation personified, but she managed to breathe just fine. Her mind, on the other hand, was in a lot of different places simultaneously. It was like everything she could think of blended into one large, ugly-ass mixture she could imagine her mother make for dessert on a particularly _good_ day.

She hoped that nothing special was going to happen to her there. She had secretly wished that Maine was anything but extraordinary. There were the cliched stories were children who moved to different places would always experience some sort of supernatural events during their stay, and right now, that was the last thing she wanted to explain to Nathan she was experiencing.

A red fucking balloon and a creepy-ass voice. That was all it took to convince her that she was either losing her wits in the town or there was someone pulling some sort of messed up prank on the new girl. Her first thoughts landed on Henry Bowers and his pack of punks, but another one thought otherwise. The Bowers gang wouldn't be petty enough to scare her like a little school girl. They would confront her head on with whatever they schemed with.

Another thought landed on Richie Tozier's gang, but they hardly seemed like the malicious sorts of punk that would piss with her for something so petty. In fact, they seemed like the most genuine people she had ever encountered in town. Why the hell would they do something as twisted as that to her?

 _"I'm nuts! Are you nuts too, Cassie? We can be nuts together!"_

Gritting her teeth so hard it ached her jaw, she pulled her sheets further over her body, ignoring the sweat that ran down her skin. It was stupidly hot beneath the blanket, but it was the only thing she felt like could keep her safe from the darkness. She was never scared of the darkness alone, but of what might be lurking in the shadows of her room.

It knew her name. It knew her _fucking_ name. It couldn't be real. It just couldn't be real. The Bowers gang only knew her by her surname, with the exception of Victor. She forgot that she had told that asshole her first name. It could be certain that he had told the rest of them her first name, sure, but she doubted even someone like them would be petty enough to pull something like that on her. If they really wanted to piss her off, they'd just pull up in her driveway and shout some slangs whilst breaking her windows. Karma was a bitch, she supposed, but they hadn't done it yet.

The next morning, she had barely been able to gain any sleep. Whoever created the term 'beauty sleep' would soon regret making up such a false statement about sleep. It seemed to bring her nothing but problems which she couldn't afford to handle until she had her morning coffee.

She didn't drink coffee.

She spent the morning walking like a zombie to the bathroom, doing her business, making herself presentable, and went downstairs to see her father already gone and her mother looking a little like an anxious excuse of what she usually looked like in the morning. It puzzled Cassie what it was that was worrying Claudia so much, but she decided not to push the matter further and made do with a piece of toast and left the room without as much as a 'good morning'.

However, before she was successfully able to avoid the kitchen without drawing her mother's attention away from what her eyes were currently positioned onto, which was a cup of tea, Claudia suddenly called before she as much as touched the doorframe with her feet. "Cassie, where are you going?" She asked, reaching her arm forth to point at her with a suspicious yet passive gaze, one which Cassie was unable to distinguish for sure.

Without turning back, Cassie mumbled, "The store."

"What are you going to buy?"

"... Does it matter?"

"Not alcohol, I believe?" Her mother suggested with furrowed brows.

Cassie grumbled to herself before she verified begrudgingly, "I'm _fourteen_. I _don't_ drink."

"Good," Claudia said before she resumed to drink the tea. "Because I would hate it if you did something which would cause us problems."

"Don't I always?" She mumbled indistinctively, or so she thought.

"What was that?"

"... Nothing."

"Are you sure? Because I was vaguely able to-"

"I said it was _nothing_ , okay?" Cassie unintentionally snapped at her mother, earning her a glare in return.

"Like I said, _Cassandra_ , I do not appreciate you using that tone against me." Her mother said, surprisingly calm as always. Cassie always assumed her mother was going to snap against every little remark she made against her, but it turned out to be a rather unpredictable mood. She didn't know whether she would snap or just remain unresponsive on an emotional level. Whatever she was, Cassie made sure to be observant enough to tell which was which.

"I'm sorry, Claudi-"

"Excuse me?" she asked demandingly, causing Cassie to rethink her words carefully before answering.

"No... _Mom_..." The words rolled off her tongue like the foreign German she had learned back in Asheville. They weren't natural.

"Good, remember to use that word whenever you address me." She ordered her with arrogant superiority, to which Cassie gave her a suspicious look in return.

"What do you-"

"Don't question me, young lady!" Claudia abruptly bellowed, causing the China on their shelves to insignificantly rumble. "I'm your mother, and such, you will respect me as one."

"' _Mother'_? Where does this all come from, if I may ask?" Cassie questioned, feigning politeness. This was all strange to her. Her mother was usually not as assertive, especially when it came to her demanding something personal of her. Their relationship had always been at arm's length, not too close to be considered real family but not too far to be considered strangers either. They were acquaintances, nothing less and nothing more. Besides, as cold as it seemed, they both preferred it to be that way. It caused the minimal amount of damage.

Claudia seemed to hesitate before she spoke up again, more sharply than she intended towards her one and, _currently_ , only child. "Nothing, just be sure to be home before nine o'clock tonight. Your father and I will be working late as well."

"Oh?" Cassie asked curiously. "Were will _you_ be going?"

Apparently, Claudia did not take this question for granted. "Is there something you wish to ask me, _Cassandra_?" she asked, her eyes as pointed as razor blades as they looked at Cassie with penetrating glares.

Cassie stiffened severely, but she shook her head submissively beneath her mother's stern look. "No, _mom_ ," she said slowly, trying to avoid her mother's pervasive glare as much as possible. "I was just curious as always." She admitted, lowering her head to the level of her shoulders. "Sorry if I somehow offended you, _mother dear_ ,"

"That's quite alright," Claudia said, faking a benevolent smile as she patted her daughter's cheek. "Just remember to stay out of trouble, alright? Don't get into anything which will make your father's situation and mine troublesome to deal with, alright?"

"... Alright."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear that."

"Alright, _mom_." Cassie forced herself to say, actually spitting the words out like cyanide having been caught in her throat.

Before Claudia was able to process the fact that she had just been back-talked by her daughter and was about to open her mouth and say something, Cassie quickly grasped the given opportunity and got out of there like the house was on fire and made her way towards town, out of her mother's reach. Freedom was more than often a privilege she had to grant herself. It wasn't usually given to her by others.

She walked down the pavement in the sun with her hat over her head, crossing Witcham Street and Turner Street, eventually getting closer to Neibolt Street as well, which she made sure to steer away from as far as possible. Even looking in the same direction made her skin crawl like maggots were forcing their way out of her. Whether what occurred yesterday was real or not, the sight of the street didn't console her any more than what it usually did.

Effectively avoiding looking at it aided her in getting to town. Her curiosity and yearn for thrills would usually affect her better judgment and convince her to take the path down towards the house, but it would seem as if those qualities had somehow abandoned her that day. They weren't showing up. It could be because she was just too tired to really bother herself with such antics, but she knew it wasn't the case.

 _"Come join the circus with me, Cassie. We'll have so much fun."_

She knew that if she walked into the store with her ears plugged by her hand she would look conspicuous, so she depended on her ability to do what she always did whenever something was bothering her. Ignore it. It was a coward's move, but it was effective. Honor didn't mean much if you were dead.

As a coping mechanism and as a way to pull her focus away from her exhaustion, Cassie began planning on what she was gonna do that day. She still had some money left from buying the medicine yesterday, so there were a few things she could put to mind would entertain her for the day. Maybe she could seek out Tozier and the others and see if they could do something together? She wouldn't exactly call them her 'friends' yet, but at least she knew them better than she did anyone else.

She recalled back in Asheville when she was hosting a birthday party and only the children of her mother's coworkers showed up, but not because they wanted to befriend her. They did it because they wanted cake and candy, and she was the one providing them with the good stuff. It was like the roles had been switched, that she was their guest and they were the birthday children.

It felt silly for her to judge people solely because of bad childhood memories, but she knew that there was no such thing as true selflessness among people. There was always something to gain, a catch. It was like that with herself too. She was no exception from that rule. However, her catch was ambiguous, not specific. She couldn't quite tell what it was, but she knew there was something. Nothing which would hurt them, though.

 _But it couldn't hurt to ask them_ , she thought. She would head over to Tozier as soon as she had bought her stuff and ask if they could hang out together and do something, another swearing contest for example. She didn't care if it wasn't much as long as she didn't have to go home. The former was preferable to the latter.

She reached the town and entered the grocery store, the heat abandoning her exterior temperature and replacing it with the comfort of an air conditioner. She was easily able to notice that there were more kids there than adults, primarily around the ice-cream section of the store. She couldn't exactly blame them for emptying the shop of few items in particular. Ice cream on a hot summer's day did sound like the ideal method to spend your money. Maybe she could make due with some as well?

However, just as Cassie turned around to the shelf leading to the ice cream section, past a couple of more kids that couldn't help but to inevitable bump into her on the way, she felt herself crashing into a significantly larger frame than the other children, one that was able to match her own height. "Hey, watch it."

"Hayes?"

"Huh?" Opening her eyes, she came face to face with none other than the bleach-blonde asshole himself. "Criss?"

Instead of complaining to her as expected of a class-A delinquent on Henry Bowers' level, Vic actually found himself smirking as he took a step back from her, widening the gap between them. "Didn't think you'd stick around in town after what Henry threatened you with. I halfway expected you to run with your tail between your legs."

"Emphasis on 'halfway'," she said with a smirk, but suddenly recalled what had happened to that kid who was with the Tozier and his friends. Her once sly smirk turned into a sour frown. She knew well enough that it was Bowers himself who had carved that _H_ into his stomach, but another part of her guessed that Criss was somehow involved in the events. He was one of Bowers' closest companions, it would be inevitable. She felt her anger grow severely.

"By the way," she said composedly, but before he could open his mouth to ask what it was she meant, he felt a knotted fist make contact with his left shoulder with fast velocity, causing him to grunt and take a couple of more steps back in retreat. It took him a couple of seconds before his mind was able to process, and already before then, another fist was thrown into his stomach. This was all it took before he fell to his knees, groaning painfully and having had all air knocked out of him.

"You're truly messed up, you know that?" Cassie asked and kept a dangerous glare fixated on him. "What happened with that new kid yesterday?"

"You're fucking nut-"

"Wrong answer, asshole. I'm fucking _pissed_." She clarified coldly, placing her right foot on top of his lowered shoulder and pushing him back with it. Vic fell to the floor, grunting as his head came in contact with the abnormally cold, abnormally hard, surface beneath. "I truly thought you were less of a fucker than the rest of them were, but I guess I was wrong."

"I didn't..." He struggled to speak for a moment as he recollected himself and sat upwards, panting. "I didn't hurt the fat-"

"Maybe you did, maybe you didn't," She interrupted disinterestedly, eyeing him with dark aversion. "But I don't give a shit. You were there, you saw what they did to him, you let it happen. You're just as small of a dick like the rest of them are." She wasn't even shouting, barely speaking at all. Her tone was almost as low as a whisper, but it was the glare which caused his hair to rise up his skin. He had never seen a girl so pissed before, and he didn't know whether he was supposed to admire the view or grow resentful of it.

Fortunately for them, none of the cashiers seemed to notice the sudden commotion happening between the teenagers, neither did the few customers who were present. That was one advantage about Derry; the people were indifferent to what was happening unless it involved themselves. Those were characteristics which many seemed to cherish in both ways, good and bad.

Instead of recommencing with harassing him further, Cassie knew it wasn't worth it and removed her foot away from him, allowing him to slowly get up on his feet, both unsteadily and with his right hand over his stomach over the remaining ache. He was pathetic enough as it was and she wasn't in need of enhancing that quality. She didn't have to.

Without saying anything else, and without allowing him to say anything, she turned her back to him and was about to walk over to the ice cream section again, but before she could, he said something which caused her to stop to a halt.

"Patrick's missing," Vic said, louder than he intended to, and as a result, earned himself odd glances from some of the other customers. "And Henry's becoming more on edge. I'd advise you not to interfere with anything we do from now. It won't do you any good."

"Cockstetter is missing? What are the odds?" Cassie snorted indifferently without turning around, not really caring very much about the absence of one of the worst people in town to date. Although she would be lying if she said she wasn't a bit caught off about that fact. Still, it didn't seem like a lot of people paid any attention to it. It was a daily occurrence that children went missing, but none seemed to care. She didn't care herself, but she acknowledged it enough to feel alarmed.

Something which surprised her, even more, was that he even had the balls to give her advice about what to do or what not to do. Another quality of hers she knew her mother resented about her was that Cassie always seemed to have the tendency of getting involved into stuff whether she wanted it or not. It proved to be both a curse and a blessing, and, regardless of the circumstances, she always chose to turn it into an advantage in the end. Criss didn't have the authority to tell her, of all people, what she was supposed to do. Hell, she doubted he worried about her. He just didn't want her to get involved with their shit, and though she did agree it would be the best course of action for them both, the image of the bruised and bloodied kid back by the pharmacy shop still lingered in her mind and made her even more pissed.

"And by the way," she said, not any less loud than she spoke minutes ago. As she finally turned around to face him, her eyes were accompanied by the same note of sharpness that they were in the possession of earlier. "Piss with me again and I'll turn you into a eunuch, pretty boy."

"Cassie?" This voice didn't belong to Criss. In fact, he hadn't even opened his mouth to reply before he left the store. However, as she turned around again, she spotted Tozier standing in front of the same candy row, his arms filled with all sorts of snacks as if he was stocking them for hibernation or something.

"Tozier?" She asked, her earlier anger faltered into a look of confusion and she tilted her head at the content in his arms. "What's with all the snacks?"

"I was gonna say it's none of your fucking business," he remarked, but not with any noticeable contempt. "But then I realized it _was_."

She furrowed her brows. "Meaning?"

A pack of skittles suddenly dropped from his arms and down to the floor, and before he could reach down and grab it, Cassie got ahead of him and swiftly took it. "It looks like you're gonna go into hibernation. Where you headed to?"

"The boys and I are gonna go to the quarry to bathe. I headed to your house to ask you if you wanted to come along, but this lemon-faced woman answered instead and said you had gone out. Didn't think I'd see you here."

"Yeah," She sighed. "That lemon-faced woman was surely mother dear."

"Really?" He asked genuinely surprised and was visibly struggling with keeping everything together in his arms. His eyes then squeezed into almost stick-thin lines beneath his glasses, as if he was inspecting her closely. "You sure don't look a lot alike."

Without her consent, Cassie let out a chuckle and found his comment comedic. It would be bad if she did. "If I've gotten a dollar for each time I've heard that, I would've been rich and far away from here."

"Anyway, you wanna come?" He asked again, to which Cassie actually began to debate with herself would be fun. She didn't have anything else to do that day, and she had initially intended on asking him if they wanted to hang out together or something. What an odd coincidence, but a mutually beneficial one.

"Sure," she said with a nod and approached him, and before he could ask her what she was about as she opened both of her arms, she grabbed half the amount of snacks in his arms and placed them into her own. Having half the weight off him felt relieving, as he had been carrying them for some time now. "But I don't think your money's gonna cover all of this shit alone. We'll split it, and we'll both carry it to wherever the quarry is, alright?"

Richie nodded eagerly and agreed with her suggestion. Quite frankly, he didn't believe his small amount of money consisting of five bucks alone would cover for all the snacks he had picked out. The Tozier boy had forgotten to tell the others about his plan on splitting the bill between everyone, and because of that mistake, he had to go to the store alone. But at least now he wasn't alone in doing it now. "Cool, thanks, Cassie."

"Don't mention it, R... Richie." The first name of someone she could consider close to a friend rolled off her tongue like a foreign language. It wasn't much, but it was progression. That alone was good enough.

They both headed up to the desks, paid for their split amount of snacks, placed everything in two plastic bags, and exited the store with one bag each. Because she didn't have a bike of her own since her mother had made her discard it back in North Carolina as expendable waste, she had to walk beside Richie whilst he walked with his own bike by his side. She considered telling him that it wasn't necessary and that he could just ride ahead of her, but she decided against it and kept quiet.

When they left town and headed for wherever the quarry was, Richie opened his mouth and asked her, "I saw Vic Criss walk out of the store in a hurry from where I found you. Did something happen?" He couldn't help but let the antagonistic tone enter as he spoke. He disliked Vic almost as much as he hated Henry Bowers, but if Cassie was somehow on friendly terms with one of them, it couldn't mean anything good. She seemed like a nice friend so far, at least a tolerable one, and he wasn't particularly fond of the thought of her befriending the Bowers gang.

"Oh, yeah," she replied, and Richie felt his hands vaguely tighten around his handlebars. However, what she said next shocked him completely. "I gave him some words of advice regarding what happened to that boy yesterday."

"You mean Ben?"

"Yeah, him, I suppose," she said. "I told him that if he fucked with me again, I'd go ahead and castrate him."

As those words left her mouth, the Tozier boy felt like falling hysterically on the ground whilst laughing his ass off. Instead, he made due with a snicker. "Nice going. I think you'll fit in with us guys just fine." He hadn't really considered it, but including the Hayes girl in their group didn't seem like such a bad idea. She had helped them on multiple occasions, plus she wrecked the Bowers gang's fricking _windshield_. That had to say something, right?

"'You guys'?" She let out a laugh. "You mean the Losers' Club?"

"Losers' Club?" He looked at her oddly. "Where'd you get that from?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "If joining you makes me stand out from those assholes you call 'people', then sure. I'll gladly come along. Besides, you kinda owe me for saving your asses against Bowers."

"Yeah, and you swear like a sailor. That's another thing." He joked.

"Bitch please, you do it more than me." She said and shoved him in the shoulder.

"I don't fucking 'swear' more than you." He shoved her back, causing her almost to trip. They continued like that until they eventually reached the quarry and joined up with the others.

* * *

 _They were all children, prey, food. They were essential for ITs existence. IT couldn't survive ITs hibernation if IT didn't feed on them._

 _And like all brats were, in particular, they were so prone to fear whatever they didn't understand. It made it so much much easier to salt the meat._

 _However, **she** was not like the other brats. She didn't fear, she couldn't fear. That wretched, lazy, good for nothing, Turtle, had made sure of that._

 _His precious little creation was unable to experience the sensation of the salting of the flesh. Therefore IT couldn't devour her like the rest._

 _IT would find a way to end her, no matter what it took. The Turtle was a benevolent fool, that was true, but he was slow. He would often leave loopholes for him to crawl through without even being aware of it himself._

 _The wretched child was an abnormal one, even by human standards. It didn't fear anything, neither starvation nor death. She was indifferent to everything, the very contrast to an ordinary human child._

 _She had always been like that, keeping an eye on him from a distance. He had devoured fellow children in front of her, dismembered them, forced them to literally scream their lungs out in pain. The more pain and fear, the tastier the flesh._

 _Still, she had never said anything. She had never as much as blinked._

 _An odd child indeed, but a threat he saw fit to dispose off._


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own IT**

 **Coulrophobia has a blog where I will be posting gifs, pictures, and quotes associated with the story. Feel free to check it out.**

 **This has been the longest chapter I've ever written on over 10,000 words! Holy shit!**

 _www . Wood - White - Writer. Tumblr . com_

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Speak of the Devil and he is sure to arrive**

* * *

"Y-You guys m-m-made it." Denbrough breathed out in relief as they all spotted Richie and Cassie in the forest line carrying the snacks they had bought. Though Richie could not look any more enthusiastic about heading out to greet his friends and show them everything they had bought, Cassie was reluctant to make herself seen by the rest of them, despite that they were already acquainted. Her mother often described being the center of attention as 'the best feeling in the world', but Cassie wasn't so sure about that.

As Richie kept displaying his goods like he was the explorer of an entirely new country, Cassie placed the bag of her goods down next to his bike and headed up towards Denbrough, flashing him a greeting smile and nodded. She wasn't usually one for verbal greetings unless they contained some sort of curse word, something Richie didn't display very seldom. It was some of the things they shared in common, but Denbrough seemed like a decent fellow so she decided to skip the unpleasantries and at least try to be on her best behavior for today. She did at least want to try and become friends with them, as uncertain as that possibility seemed.

Denbrough smiled gregarious in return. "Y-You came."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I had some spare time today. Besides, I've never been here before."

"I-It's a cool p-place to h-h-hang out."

"I bet." She shifted her focus away from him and took a cautious step towards the edge, letting her eyes fall down to the water and perceive just how far it went before she would be able to reach it. Truth be told, she was never especially fond of heights, but not to a frantic level such as her father would reach. Her parents didn't lack the tendencies of exaggerating everything they either liked or disliked and it more than often irked her whenever the volumes of their voices would go well beyond the sanctuary roof of their house.

However, upon looking down there a second time, she came to realize that from her perspective, at least, it seemed a bit fun to be able to be able to crash into the cold water without regard for her safety. She wasn't suicidal, but she doubted the fall would kill her unless she landed flat on her stomach, in which case it would only hurt like hell. "So, let me get this straight," she said as she took a step back from the edge, looking back at the rest of them as they were beginning to undress down to their underwear alone. "We are supposed to jump down from here and into the water?" She gestured down to the bottom of the quarry.

"That's right," verified Kaspbrak. "It's not dangerous unless you're unfortunate enough to hit the side of the cliff." Cassie was able to notice how most of the boys avoided looking at her as they undressed, even going as far as to do it behind one of the bushes or the trees. She couldn't blame them for being bashful. Hell, she too felt quite inhibited if she was to ever undress to her underwear in front of a bunch of people of the opposite gender. Then again, the only she had gotten undressed in front of was Nathan back in Asheville one summer when they were bathing in the lake, and even then she had always been in her underwear. He hadn't as much as commented it before he too jumped into the water himself.

Scratching the back of her head, Cassie began to unbutton her shorts and pull off her shoes, putting her hat down next to them as she dragged her shirt off until she stood there in just her gray underwear and bra. Being only fourteen, she hadn't physically developed to the point where people usually noticed in public, but she still wore a cover over her cleavage just to feel an inch within the femininity her mother had told her to cherish when she first got her menstrual period. It wasn't much, but it was something.

When she put her clothes away to the side and looked up again, she could tell that some of the boys had been looking her way, but quickly shifted their heads around again when she looked at them and resumed with putting their own clothes away. Though initially feeling a little embarrassed about it, the fluster soon was exchanged with a mocking grin. "Perverts," she mumbled good-natured, not really defining them as such but still finding their reactions to that word to be worth remembering for a lifetime.

"Damn, Hayes," Richie suddenly said, gazing at her with his glasses still firmly attached to the bridge of his nose whereas the rest of him (except his underwear) was completely exposed. He looked at her from head to toe twice and placed a finger under his chin with a derogatory smirk. "I almost didn't think you were a girl there for a second."

Instead of acting like her mother and immediately speak out on how offended she felt, Cassie chose to play along and make him sorry that he let those words escape his lips. "Please, I'm _less_ of a girl than you are, Tozier," she replied and flashed him a taunting grin, and he instantly flushed upon acknowledging her retort and took a dramatically long step back.

Both Kaspbrak and Uris began to hysterically laugh at her comeback and even Denbrough and Hanscom seemed to find it tempting to follow the pattern. Richie, on the other hand, merely stuck out his tongue to her and frowned like a defeated opponent. "Very funny, I'm laughing my ass off!" he shouted and his sarcasm did not avoid her detection.

She mockingly bowed before him and said with a deep and British accent, "Best in the business, my good fellow,"

"Yeah, right," he crossed his arms over his chest. "I can see that."

"Uhm, guys," Hanscom's interruption prevented both the Hayes girl and the Tozier boy's quarrel to continue, and all of them turned their focus onto him. "Do you think Beverly will show up?" There was a hint of disappointment and negativity creeping up on his tone like the answer had already been given to him on a silver plate. Despite being usually indifferent, Cassie walked over to him, placed her arm on his shoulders and said with a smile of both confidence and credence,

"Don't worry, Hanscom. I'm sure she'll show up. After all, who'd miss a moment to hang up with you guys?"

"Are you being sarcastic now?" Asked Uris with a deadpan look that she returned with a feigned expression of offense, patting her collarbone with her free hand.

"Look, I'm a bitch, but I'm not a _lying_ bitch," She looked back Hanscom again and held the thumb of her free hand up. "Besides, if you ask me, Beverly doesn't seem like the girl to ditch someone like that." In spite of not having known the Hanscom boy for very long, Cassie instantly expressed fondness for him. He was big for his age, sure, but that didn't seem like a reason to ostracize him from the others. The memory of how utterly beat-up he looked like after his unfortunate run-in with the Bowers gang just proved how big of a bag of dicks some people could be because of bagatelles. It was pathetic, to say the least.

The Hanscom boy, however, seemed to find her words consolating enough and he nodded at her. "Yeah, I know. I just hope she'll get here." It may have just been the sun, but she was vaguely able to catch a point of red peaking up from each of his cheeks at the mention of the Marsh girl. Romance and stuff truly weren't her field of qualifications, but Cassie knew crushes when she saw them. She recalled the look in Nathan's eyes whenever he spotted Emily Collins walking down the hallways of her old school in Asheville. The sight was bemusing to Cassie, but she felt happy on Nathan's behalf.

Her own love life, on the contrary, was pretty much existing on a nonexistent planet somewhere in the galactic atmosphere near a black hole. Even the night shone brighter than her love life. She had never been one for reciprocated crushes from someone else, but it felt like a dagger pointed at both ends. Whenever someone confessed to her, she would reject them, but whenever she confessed to someone else she had a crush on (as limited as it was), they would reject her in return. It was a cycle of silliness and the main reason why she never depended on lovers to keep her company. Friendships tended to be more reliable, not that she had a lot of those either.

"W-We can wait for her d-d-down there," Denbrough said and pointed over the edge into the water below. "S-She'll come."

All of the teenagers lined up beside one-another by the edge of the quarry, looking down with equally anxious eyes. It was clear that none of them were really looking forward to jumping, but none of them wanted to chicken out either. They were best friends, but they weren't above picking on each other for fun. Richie was the perfect example of that.

They were lined up to each other as follows from left to right; Richie, Cassie, Uris, Denbrough, Hanscom, and Kaspbrak.

Cassie looked over the edge again, feeling a little less confident than she did moments before, and she felt the uneasiness built itself up in her stomach again. Her father, being the acrophobic that he was, would have left there screaming like a frantic insane person being chased by a ten-feet-big bear in the woods, and that wasn't exaggerating it one bit. It was an _underreaction_. Her mother, on the hand, was a germaphobe, much like Kaspbrak was, and would scream like a maniacal housemaid if Cassie ever returned with dirt on her clothes. It was a pain, but that wasn't the sort of phobia Cassie had.

She was afraid of clowns, nothing more and nothing less, all thanks to damned Edgar Middleton in primary school.

And last she checked, there weren't any fucking clowns in Derry.

Cassie felt tempted to do it and was actually prepared to take the final step over the edge and prove that she wasn't the kind of girl who would back away from a challenge, especially since Richie was standing right next to her and would indubitably laugh his ass off if _she_ chickened out.

Suddenly, Richie began making weird noises from her left. She turned around and was about to ask him what the hell he was doing, and just became the witness of his releasing a ball of salvia down into the water.

Cassie blinked. "What are you—"

And from her right this time, Uris released a ball of spit of his own over the edge, then Denbrough, then Hanscom, then lastly Kaspbrak. Was this was some sort of ritual for them to perform every single day? Eventually, not wanting to be left out, Cassie ignored her disgust, gathered a small amount of spit in her mouth and shot it out. Unfortunately, it didn't get very far. It didn't even hit the water.

"Oh my god," said Richie. "That was terrible. I win!"

"What are you talking about?" Asked Kaspbrak and Cassie in unison.

"It went the furthest! It's my destiny!" Richie exclaimed with victorious arrogance.

"If your destiny is to spit the furthest, then your future must be bleak, Richie," Cassie commented, trying to sound indifferent as always but failed miserably at letting the cynicism out. It was obvious that the Tozier boy's priorities in life were either low, not yet established, or just pathetic. Perhaps all of the above?

He snapped his eyes at her at the comment. "Says _you_! Yours didn't even hit the water."

"So what?"

"You're supposed to at least make an effort! You're not even trying!"

She felt tempted to just push him off the cliff and save herself the pain of having to endure his talking any further, and she was actually in the midst of placing a hand on his back and just fulfill the beneficial deed. Denbrough interrupted them, however, with a simplistic and short question which made every one of them turn their focus away from the spitting contest that had escalated into yet another argument between the Tozier boy and the Hayes girl.

"S-So who wants to go f-f-first?" Denbrough asked, but none of them indicated that they wanted to do it. They all cast their eyes over the edge again, which had seemed to have grown considerably larger in distance between the surface and them. Cassie refrained from knotting her fingers together in anxiety over how much further down in steemed now that they were actually about to do it.

"I'll go."

Everyone turned around and saw Beverly throwing her bike to the side with the rest of them. Her hair was noticeably much shorter than it was the other day, but they all could silently agree that it looked good on her, including Hanscom, whom faintly blushed again at the sight of her. Beverly unbuttoned her dress and took off her shoes, standing there with nothing but her underwear before she proceeded to sprint towards them and towards the edge.

"Sissies." She said with a benevolent taunt and, much to everyone's shock, leaped off the quarry without as much as a single halt in reluctance.

"What the _fuck_!" Richie shout echoed through the air with bewilderment as they all watched the Marsh girl leap off the edge and land down into the water with a large splash. It wasn't until a few moments later that she resurfaced and gestured for the others to join her down there. Cassie felt the uneasiness and anxiety roll of her shoulders as the dangers were gone from her list of problems. If the Marsh girl was able to survive the leap, so could she.

Richie was the first one to speak out of them all as their temporary silence wore off. "So, whose next?"

A cunning grin crept across her lips at the mention of this, and she placed a 'comforting' hand on his back, causing him to flinch at her touch. They both looked into each other's eyes, grayish blue into deep brown, and though her touch had caught him off-guard, he didn't abstain from it. He opened his mouth to ask her about what she was doing, but in doing so, he activated Cassie's innocent smile and she said, "Have a nice trip."

"What do you-" He was incapable of finishing his question as he felt a gust of air pass him by. It took him a couple of times before he was properly able to process the information that he had just been pushed, and as he eventually did so, his body crashed into the water. The sudden cold sent chills through his body and caused major goosebumps to radiate on his skin.

He stayed in a frozen position beneath the water for what felt like eternities before he finally resurfaced, and he cast a glare up towards the grinning girl still at the edge of the quarry over them. _"JUST WAIT 'TIL I_ _GET YOU, HAYES!"_ He shouted up at her, more competitive and annoyed than truly infuriated. His mind was filled with the determination of beating her. It would be a victory he would cherish until the day he would die.

The Hayes girl continued to laugh at the sight of him, holding her stomach and bowing like she was suffering from stomachaches. However, the tables soon turned as Stan followed her example and pushed her down the edge as well, and her laughing was instantaneously replaced with resonating fearful cries until she finally hit the waters as well, disappearing from sight for a few moments before she got up, pushing her darkened hair away from her eyes and looking twice as enraged as Richie had done before.

 _"I'LL KICK YOUR ASS, URIS!"_ She bellowed with the vengeance to match a mythological Valkyrie, and Richie was vaguely able to spot traits of fearfulness in the curly-haired boy's eyes from up on the quarry. It was bemusing, but he currently had his focus fixated on someone else with his own revenge all planned out in his head.

Cassie didn't know what hit her until she felt herself get pulled beneath the water again, feeling the coldness of the water fill her mouth and vaguely get into her lungs. From beneath the water, she was able to see the blurred outlines of Richie holding her in a choking hold around her neck, not to a threatening point, though.

The challenge had been accepted. Although the Tozier boy had the upper hand at first, Cassie quickly shook herself out of his choking grip and quickly shifted around, grabbing him by his shoulders and firmly pushing him away. She swam up to the surface and took a deep breath, coughing a couple of times from the water that she had been unfortunate enough to swallow.

"What's the matter, Hayes?" she heard Richie shout from behind him with an underlying taunt. "Can't handle a little water?"

 _He did not just..._

"Want a piece of me, Tozier?" She asked as soon as she regained her breathing under control, turning around with a dangerous glare. "You'll get it, alright."

"That's if you can reach me!" He taunted, waving both of his arms over his head.

 _Oh, he just did._

 _This meant **war**!_

"Alright, you little shit!" She shouted and charged through the water and towards him, not saving the boy any mercy from her wrath.

Needless to say, Cassie was genuinely enjoying her afternoon with the gang of social misfits. It was perhaps the best moment with friends she had had for some time, whether or not it felt appropriate enough to address them as such. They waged war against each other in the water to the point where Cassie let Beverly get on top of her shoulders and try to wrestle against Richie, who was on top of Bill's shoulders as an opponent.

Beverly grabbed a hold of Richie's shoulders in an attempt to throw him off, but Richie was faster and was successfully able to throw Beverly back into the water, resulting in both of them sinking back into the coldness again.

The primary fights were between Richie and Cassie, who were never able to sign a truce and consistently continued trying to defeat each other. They were all laughing, having fun, enjoying the summer together like the teenagers they were supposed to be. It was, perhaps, the best day of summer Cassie had ever experienced her entire life. She missed her time with Nathan, but this made her feel like a kid again, as silly as it seemed.

"What was that? Something touched my foot!" Stan suddenly yelled and the others turned to look at him with furrowed eyebrows and confused expressions. It was clear that it was something startling him based on the frantic motions of his eyes, but as Bill ducked beneath the water and tried to see what it was, he came back up almost as soon as he had gone down.

There was nothing indicating danger plastered over his face, and it relieved the others that there was, in fact, nothing to be afraid of.

"What was it?" Cassie asked and swam over towards him and away from Richie, curiosity overwhelming her. "Was it a _snake_?"

"A _SNAKE_?" The Uris boy wasted no time getting out of the water and up on the shore where they had placed their stuff at the mention of a potential serpent in the water. The others too became somewhat unnerved by this. Cassie felt the urge to snicker at their reaction but refrained from doing so and shifted back to Bill again.

He shook his head at the suggestion. "It's a turtle."

Her eyes grew with inquisitiveness. "Really? A turtle? What kind?"

"I d-d-don't know. It went away as soon as I s-spotted it."

Disappointment surged through her. "Too bad. I'd like to see it."

"You like turtles?" Bill asked, mildly surprised.

She shrugged. "Somewhat."

* * *

"You're from North Carolina, right?" Eddie asked as they all got up from the water and began to munch on the snacks Richie and Cassie had bought before they got there. The sun was still blazing hot outside and it did not take them long to get dry on the shore-rocks where they had chosen to rest for a bit. Whereas the boys were sitting up, both Cassie and Beverly were lying down and tanning themselves in the heat, enjoying their youth to the fullest potential. The radio was turned on and both the girls were exchanging some snacks to chew off whenever they reached to get some.

Cassie's mother had told her that she was anemic, meaning that her body didn't produce the regular amount of red blood cells it was supposed to, hence her usual paleness. However, it didn't decrease her bodily functions in any way with the exception of restricted stamina when in motion and an increase in thirst. The latter wasn't much of a problem, but the former was the main reason why she loathed P.E. Despite this, she didn't mind tanning every once in a while when she had the occasion to do so.

"Yup," Cassie answered lazily and pulled her head over her face, shielding it from the sun. "I'm from a town called Asheville. It's a little bigger than Derry but no less loud."

"Why'd you move?" Stan asked curiously.

"Did your mother have an affair or something?" Richie inquired hastily, waiting for something dramatic to be said but earning himself nothing but sharp looks from the others and a clasp on the back from Eddie.

"Shut up, Richie," Eddie said, leaving a significant red mark where his hand had been.

"As amusing and preferable as that would be," Cassie answered, not moving an inch from her spot. "No. My dad got a job here. It's the same boring story."

"It would be preferable if one of your parents had an affair?" Beverly asked, pulling her sunglasses down to look at her with a questionable expression.

Cassie shrugged but didn't pull the hat away from her eyes, thus she was unable to witness what each of them was doing or looked like. "My mom is mainly at home, doing nothing really, whilst my dad got a job as a member of the disciplinary committee, meaning that he's in charge of 'disciplining' delinquents such as Bowers and his bunch of assholes. However, from the look of it, he's doing a terrible job. Then again, no offense, but your town is full of shitty people."

"N-None t-t-taken," stuttered Bill in agreement, and the others nodded as well, with the exception of Beverly, who was still looking puzzled at her from the side.

"Are you close with your family?" Beverly's tone became suddenly very low, almost on the sympathetic or pitiful ground. Her question caught Cassie off-guard, and she sat straight up and pulled her hat off her face and revealed inscrutable expressions, neither of sadness nor apathy but at the same time an amalgamation of both. She already knew how to answer Beverly's question without hesitation.

"No, we're not." She wasn't feeling depressed or sad because of her lack of relations with her parents. It had grown on her like a natural development. As a child, her mother never seemed to truly view her as the child that she had been physically stuck with for nine whole months. She would either ignore her presence or become frustrated with her. Her father too didn't seem to acknowledge her existence like a loving father should have. It was as if they both stuck with her just because she was their offspring, nothing more. There were moments as a child where they would occasionally display affection towards her if she had achieved something like the spelling-competition in primary school and her mother had flashed her a true smile, but it was only temporarily. She knew it wasn't supposed to be like that.

She looked at the others and noticed that they were looking intently at her, both with curiosity and with empathy, for some reason the latter came from Richie and Bill the most, whereas the others were mostly just curious. Beverly, on the other hand, had her face painted with a range of emotions, none Cassie was able to distinguish. She didn't want some sort of pity from them for being someone with parental issues and shit, and at first, she wanted to avoid the subject, but the words slipped from her before she was able to stop them from coming.

"My mom and I... We don't really talk together. We talk more _at_ each other. My dad... Our relationship is as much as nonexistent."

"They don't care?" Beverly asked, to which Cassie shrugged again.

"They _do_ care, but not because they love me. They care because they _have_ to." She paused and shook her head dismissively, smiling silly. "I'm probably just selfish. Just forget I said anything, okay?"

"M-M-My parents too are d-d-distant _ssssometimes_ ," Bill somberly spoke out of the sudden, and everyone turned their attention to him, Cassie included. "A-A-After what happened to Georgie, t-they shut me out. We rarely s-speak together now."

"I'm sorry," Cassie sympathized with his situation, feeling guilty for bringing down the mood with her own misery. She didn't want to turn everything into a pity party. "But, guys," she said, struggling to find her voice as if she had lost the habit of using it. She took a deep breath and exhaled, cursing herself for acting so stupid. "If anyone messes with you, whether it's Henry Bowers or someone else, I'll kill them for you." It felt unnatural for her to speak so emotionally and sentimental towards someone, especially a group she had just recently met. However, there was no doubt that Cassie had grown fond of them over the course of the week. If they were pissed on by someone, she would deal with them on her own. Just like she had with Greta Keene and Vic Criss. She was not afraid.

"You mean like you did with Vic Criss?" Richie asked her teasingly, and everyone looked first oddly at him and then at her.

"What'd y-you do?" Bill asked her, and though she didn't really feel like answering, she knew there was no avoiding the truth.

"I told him to piss off." Though it wasn't the entire truth, it was partially enough. However, the damned Tozier boy wouldn't let it go that easily.

"Don't leave out the good stuff. You beat him to the fucking _ground_." Richie exclaimed, and the temptation to get him to shut up was increasing drastically.

Instead, she refrained. "He was annoying me, not to mention that he was partially at fault for what happened to Ben."

The Hanscom boy looked at her with a sense of appreciation, one she certainly knew she didn't deserve. She could still see the bandage on his stomach from what had happened, and she doubted it would leave its existence without a trace. Scars like that tended to remain as a constant reminder of what didn't kill them. "You did that because of what they did to me?" He asked.

She shrugged and scratched the back of her head. "Little pissant was pissing me off. Besides, I figured he deserved it, though I doubt I'd be able to do it if he wasn't caught off-guard."

"Thanks, Cassie," Ben said, flashing her a shy but true smile. "You didn't have to."

Cassie felt herself growing faintly embarrassed and she turned her head around to avoid their eyes. "D-Don't mention it."

"But that means Bowers will just come for you after what you did to one of his friends," Eddie said with concern. "You won't live through the summer if he finds you."

She shrugged again, uninterested and unconcerned. "So what? I'll even dare him to step within the perimeter of my home when my mom's around. Besides, you guys are tolerable enough. If you're still alive then Bowers can't be that bad, right?"

"Why, Cassie," Richie said with a sweetened look in his eyes, grinning as if to brighten the mood again with his talkative gift. "Have you grown soft on us?"

She snorted but found herself eventually laughing, turning around to hide the fluster reaching to her cheeks. "Shut up, Richie,"

"You know you like me,"

"Grow a few inches taller then we'll see," She didn't really plan on saying that, but the words just rolled off her tongue. It didn't aid her getting out of the awkward situation.

"Challenge accepted." Was all Richie said that just as his eyes suddenly traveled down to Ben's bag and he began to scavage through it like a hungry fox in search of sustenance, not that intelligence and Richie really matched together as a pair. He seemed more like the kind of kid who would enter the area of a library on a dare or against his own will. _"Newsflash, Ben, school's out for summa!"_ He impersonated someone none of them able to identify, but both Beverly and Cassie, as well as the rest of them, had turned towards them with a perked interest in what it was he was holding.

"Oh, that? That's not school stuff," Ben said just as Richie pulled out what looked like to be some kind of postcard from an unknown sender.

Richie shorted and turned it around, becoming a little too noisy with his newfound friend's business. "Who sent you this?"

"No one." Ben hissed and grabbed the postcard back, apparently holding some sort of personal value with it. Despite having his source of entertainment ripped away from him, Richie continued to search through the Hanscom boy's bag and eventually pulled out a file of newspapers and information.

"What's with the history project?" He asked and started sending the file across to the others, who were becoming just as intrigued.

"Well, when I first moved here, I didn't really have anyone to hang out with, so I just started spending time in the library," Ben explained just as Bill got a hold of the files and looked over the information.

Richie didn't seem to believe his ears when he told him this. "You went to the library? On _purpose_?"

"Hey," Cassie chuckled and went over to them with Beverly, wanting to read the files as well. "At least he has the capacity of getting smarter unlike you." They sat down beside Bill with Beverly in the middle of them as he showed them the pages. They were old newspapers and pictures that seemed to be decades old, going back to the 1960's.

"What's the Black Spot?" Stan asked them, and as if on cue, the three of them came across an old picture of what looked like to be a club of sorts.

"The Black Spot was a nightclub that was burned down years ago by that racist cult," Ben explained.

"Huh, you're never able to get away from racist assholes these days," Cassie commented and went over the pages as Beverly passed it to her. They were all dark and melancholic like misery and negativity were required qualifications they needed in order to make it to the folder. However, she began to notice something rather unusual about them all. They were about unfortunate events that had plagued the town. Murders and mysteries, kidnappings and disappearances. She wasn't aware that someone as soft as Ben was so interested in the macabre.

Bill suddenly turned to Beverly and said slowly, stuttering like he usually did but with a hint of nervousness this time. "Y-Y-Your hair..." However, he wasn't able to finish before Ben beat him to it.

"Your hair's beautiful, Beverly," he said, and the Denbrough boy looked down with embarrassment of being too slow.

"I agree, but my mom would kill me if I ever cut it short _again_ ," Cassie complimented her as well, flashing her a thumbs up. "But it suits you, Bev. Keep it like that if you want."

"Oh," Beverly brushed a few strands behind her ear and smiled shyly towards Ben, though there was an inevitable peak of despondency as she spoke. "Right, thanks."

Cassie narrowed her eyes at this but decided to ignore whatever triangle was happening between the three of them and handed the folder back to Bill, who continued to scroll through it with observant eyes like he was searching for something in particular. He didn't get far before Richie reached his arm forth and asked him to pass it back to him, which Bill did without much objection. Richie's eyes furrowed beneath his glasses as he continued to scroll through all the pages. "Why is it all murders and missing kids?"

"Derry's not like any town I've ever been in before," Ben spoke lowly with a subdued tone accompanying his words, and everyone looked back at him with an increase of uneasiness building itself up in every one of them. There was something about how he seemed to change into a more darker tone that made them grow nervous out of the sudden. If Cassie got to know that her parents had forced her to move to some kind of unfortunate town where it was inevitable that people either died or disappeared, then she would, nevertheless, be pissed enough to yell it straight in her mother's face.

"I did a study once, and it turns out..." He paused uneasily before he resumed. "People die or disappear here six times the national average."

With reasonable causes, Cassie felt a chill run up and down her spine. Nathan would just love to hear what kind of fucked-up town she had moved to and how much he would miss it, or her. If she disappeared traceless or ended up dead in the middle of the forest or something, she would curse whoever appointed her father to a disciplinary committee member in that god-forsaken town and throw a fit larger than even the rat did during the Black Plague. That was how irked she had become over the course of the minutes she had gotten to know more about it. "For real?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"You read that?" Beverly asked.

He nodded again and continued. "And that's just grown-ups," his face paled somewhat. "And the kids are worse, way worse."

By then, all of them were exchanging nervous glances with each other.

"I've got more stuff if you wanna see it."

Only Eddie shook his head at the suggestion, whereas the others decided to come with the new boy to his home.

* * *

Ben's room was relatively average, or it would have been had it not been for all of the newspaper clips attached to his walls and the obvious fascination with the history of a dull town such as Derry. The boy seemed more intelligent than the rest of them did on several stages, especially Richie, who couldn't help to marvel everything in the room like 'nerd stuff'.

Cassie couldn't help but to find it interesting how much research he had done whilst staying in the town. He was either too into the subject or just had too much free time on his hands. She had a lot of that as well before befriending the group at first, but she could never imagine herself spending it on history and the likes of old facts about her new homeplace. It seemed too tedious for her liking, and Nathan would mock her to the day she died if that turned out to be the case.

"Wow, wow!" Richie exclaimed as they entered the room one after another. It was obvious that the Hanscom boy was attempting at hiding something away from the group, but his demeanor was too revealing to be taken seriously.

"So, Ben, where's the playboy magazines?" Cassie asked as her eyes traveled across the room, eyeing everything from the newspapers on the walls to the projector maps positioned on his desks. Quite frankly, she couldn't imagine someone as irreproachable as Ben to be hiding such perverse stuff, let alone look at them. She knew innocence when she saw it and that boy was the very manifestation of the term.

"Yeah, dude, where's the naughty pictures?" Richie joined in on the fun, but it was obvious that none of them found it amusing, Ben the least. Instead, said boy moved away from the awkward subject and asked as he saw his friends looking around in his room.

"Cool, huh?" His question was directed towards Richie as the latter had his eyes planted on the images on the walls.

"No, no, nothing cool, nothing cool," he breathed out as the majority of the groups all joined him and looked at the newspaper clips. Cassie currently had her own focus placed on the missing posters she found scattered across the room in unceremonious manners. They were of Betty Ripsom and some other children she was unable to identify.

Then it hit her. As she scanned through the posters one after another from the wall next to the window, it didn't come to her attention that the majority of them were just children. In fact, they were _all_ just children. It had been going on since last year when Georgie Denbrough disappeared, and she could spot from her peripheral vision that Bill had a noticeable somber expression on his face. It couldn't be easy to lose someone you were once close to, especially family. That sensation wasn't an alien one for her, but the difference was that she still had a mother and father. She just didn't have a family.

"What's that?" Stan's voice caught her attention and she turned her focus to what the others were looking at.

"Oh, that? That's the charter for Derry's township." Ben explained.

Richie adjusted the brim of his glasses and muttered mockingly, "Nerd alert."

"Says how much you know, Richie," Cassie remarked and walked over towards the right side of the room, and soon found herself suddenly fixating on a rather old image hanging from the wall next to the closet door. It looked like it was from perhaps the 16th to 17th centuries or so. It had been drawn by someone in classic manners, displaying an image of looked like to be the original citizens of the town, discussing with one another about something she was incapable of telling for sure.

Her eyes traveled across the picture from each and every one of the men, until they suddenly landed on a very odd-looking person standing in the midst of the crowd, grinning in a very sinister way. It almost looked like a clown, and coming from Cassie, it was a terrifying image to look at. She took a step back from the wall as if distancing herself from it would shield her from any upcoming threats. It was childish, but she felt at ease by looking away. The chills, however, didn't stop crawling on her skin. Whatever that image suggested, it didn't make good for any comfort.

"It's really interesting," Ben said and she turned around to join the others. "Derry started as a beaver training camp."

"Still is! Am I right, boys?" Richie exclaimed and held his arm up, expecting a hive five from either Eddie or Stan, but none of them took the initiative of doing it.

Instead, Cassie looked at him with a deadpan look of annoyance. "Judging from you, I'd almost say I agree, Richie." She then turned to look at Ben and pointed at the image of the original citizens. "Who are these people?"

"Ninety-one people signed the charter that made Derry," he said, growing increasingly uneasy for some reason. "But later that winter, they all disappeared without a trace."

Cassie grew increasingly curious and edgy at the same time, not knowing which of them she would prefer to be the most.

"The entire camp?" Eddie asked.

"There were rumors of Indians, but no sign of an attack. Everyone just thought it was a plague or something?"

"But even so, a plague would leave corpses. Didn't they find any trace?" Cassie asked, her stomach sinking into the bottom of her abdomen as the seconds passed. She was growing faintly ill for unknown reasons, not out of fear. She wasn't afraid of anything, but there was something about that image that caused her nerves to spiral out of control. It felt like something was watching her, as cliched as that sounded. She didn't say anything though and just continued to listen to Ben as he escalated with his lecture.

"But it's like one day everyone just woke up and left. The only clue was a trail of bloody clothes leading down to the well-house."

"Jesus," Richie said, sounding genuinely shocked. "We should get Derry on _Unsolved Mysteries_."

"To do what?" Cassie inquired skeptically and crossed her arms, looking at Richie. "Get them to explore centuries of old history that may as well remain forgotten about? Not even I would waste my time with that."

"But wouldn't it be cool if they did?" Richie countered and threw his arms towards the newspapers. "Ben here could be the one with the valuable intel."

Whilst Cassie and Richie went on with an argument about why Unsolved Mysteries would even want to go to a boring town such as Derry to solve old history, the closet door in Ben's room was opened by Beverly and, much to his embarrassment, the girl he had a crush on found out about his dirty little secret.

"Besides," Cassie contended and gestured to Ben with her arm, not looking away from Richie. Ben, however, was too focused on Beverly at the moment to even listen to their bickering. "How would he even be able to get them here in the first place?"

"I don't know," Richie shook his shoulders. "Maybe he could be trying to make friends with them or something."

Then, for the first time since they arrived, Bill spoke up and looked away from the projector maps. "W-W-Where's the well-house?"

They all turned towards him as Ben shrugged with a lack of answers. "I don't know. Somewhere in town, I guess. Why?"

Bill went deep into thoughts at the mention of this, even looking away from his friends to a seemingly trance-like state, and his eyes traveled to the walls filled with missing posters of the kids that had yet to be found. "Nothing," he mumbled, but they all knew that he was thinking about something.

* * *

Everyone eventually left to get home before it became too late. They all surely had parents or families that worried about their safety, not to mention that the curfew only reached to 7 pm, which meant that they were obligated to return back to their houses or the police department would poke their noses into the matter about disregarding safety rules.

Richie and Cassie walked beside one-another on the way home since they were practically from the same neighborhood. They didn't say very much, but it was obvious that the silence soon became awkward and rather cumbersome to endure. Instead of continuing with said pattern of quietness, Cassie decided to try and conversate without allowing too many curse words to roll off her tongue. After all, she was technically his friend, at least to some degree. He was annoying as fuck, but that was something they shared in common.

"Today was fun, by the way," she said louder than she intended. "We should do this again sometime."

At first, Richie was puzzled, but then he started to laugh. "I swear, Hayes, you're becoming more and more gullible by the minute. I thought you didn't like me. Did my charms finally win you?"

"I said you'd have to get taller for that to even seem plausible, Tozier." She spoke back but eventually found herself laughing beside him. They talked together like that until they eventually went their separate ways and headed home. For the first time, Cassie actually admitted to herself that she was growing more and more fond of the Tozier boy's company by the moment. However, she doubted it would reach beyond that of an ordinary friendship. It was unattainable on her account, and she didn't possess the yearn for such relations yet. Whatever it was that they had in the present, she would cherish it as nothing but a good friendship.

Speaking of friends, she would have to call Nathan as soon as she got home. It had been a little while since she last spoke to him, and she was quite frankly beginning to wonder whether or not he was avoiding conversating with her on purpose. As she walked on the empty street towards her house, she kept debating with herself if Nathan genuinely did or did not avoid her. Had she done or said something to warrant his absence?

Just as she passed one of the numerous light poles in the neighborhood, Cassie came to notice that there was yet another missing poster attached to it. She didn't think much of it until she saw the picture and read the name beneath it.

 **Patrick Hockstetter**

 **15 years old**

 **Description: 5'8 in height, 140 lbs, dark hair, white ethnicity,Last seen wearing a black blouse and white shirt, blue pants and a black belt adorned with spikes.**

 **If found please contact Derry Police Department**

 **800 - 131-0728**

"Well, what do you know?" Cassie said to herself as she continued to study the poster. "Cocksucker really went missing after all. Guess Criss wasn't so full of bullshit after all." This was just one of the recent disappearances that had occurred in Derry, and it still didn't seem like people cared an ounce more. As much as it should have bothered her, Cassie feared more for her own safety than the fact that someone had just gone missing. Hockstetter was an asshole and she didn't care much for the fact that he was gone, in fact, she relished not having to see his ugly face again. But it didn't decrease her uneasiness over the fact that she could easily go missing too unless she had her guards up more cautiously from now.

Whatever bastard was responsible for these happenings sure didn't discriminate between innocent kids and douchebags like Hockstetter.

When she got home, she noticed that all the lights in the house except for the ones in the kitchen had been turned off. The place was completely empty of souls, and neither her parents were present, even when she called out to them in the dark. She went across the living room and there, on the counter in the kitchen, spotted a piece of paper attached to a box of cold pizza, and judging by the almost unreadable words written on there, she suspected that it was her father this time that had written her the note.

 _ **Will come home late**_

 _ **Mother's gone as well**_

 _ **Eat and go to bed**_

 _ **Lock the door**_

 _ **\- Dad**_

It didn't come as a surprise that neither of her parents were home, but there were times when Cassie wondered where they both were at the time. Her father's work didn't really seem too demanding that he had to return home late every day, and God knew where her mother was at this hour. An affair seemed reasonable on either parts. Cassie knew that their love was as much as nonexistent between them, but there were those unfortunate nights where they weren't subtle about their yearn for the intimacy they craved from one another. Love wasn't the same as sex. It was more than often separate things.

Throwing the note into the trashcan beside her leg, Cassie opened the box to find already half of the pizza already eaten. Her father wasn't very generous when speaking of portions, she knew that as well as her mother did. He was a greedy man who put his needs before others at all times, something that her mother either didn't care about or seemed to follow the same principle by.

Cassie grunted to herself before grabbing a piece. "Respect your elders, my ass." She muttered sourly and opened her mouth to take a bite, but she didn't even as much graze the surface of the pizza when she started hearing strange noises coming from the piece in her hands. She looked down at it, and much to her shock, found the food crawling with maggots.

She instantly let out a disgusted yelp at the sight dropped the insect-infested piece on the floor, stomping at it as hard as she could until she spotted no more movements among the disgusting creatures. Her breathing increased to frantic point and she felt like her insides were about to force themselves up her throat. The maggots' squshed parts were hanging from the bottom of her shoes like slime, and the sight didn't do much to make her feel any less disgusted.

"What the actual _fuck_?" She couldn't recall spotting any of the maggots in the box at first, but then again, she may have just overlooked them. But it puzzled her how she was unable to spot any at first glance? Was she stupid or was she just ignorant? If so, then she was growing increasingly concerned about her physical health. She cast an engrossed look at the box still remaining on the kitchen counter and she felt the urge to grab it and throw it out of the window. Instead, she would let her own lazy father handle the mess he had indirectly caused.

"Lazy pig," she mumbled begrudgingly in her father's name and decided to walk upstairs to the room, but she didn't make it one step in the intended direction before she came to a halt. Her eyes widened at the sight of what floated above the doorframe and she could feel her heart skip of a few beats. Disbelief surged through her body like the natural blood pumping in her veins and she actually believed that she was just seeing things at first.

"No fucking way," was all she was able to breathe out.

The same red balloon from earlier was floating in the doorframe, waiting for her like it had a conscience of its own. Cassie felt frozen in her tracks like she had been placed in the freezer overnight. Just how the hell did the balloon from yesterday manage to get inside her house without her knowing it. Was this something her parents were cruelly pranking her with? Was this just another attempt to make her behave like some good girl? If so, then it was a truly pathetic attempt.

The balloon suddenly started making its way towards her.

Cassie scrambled back in retreat until she hit the wall furthest away, grabbing whatever she could find that could be used as a weapon. Unfortunately, there wasn't much around her except an emptied bottle of beer her father had been drinking off. For once in her life, Cassie actually thanked her father for being a lazy pig. She, however, didn't get too far with throwing it before the balloon suddenly popped.

She closed her eyes out of instinct to the loud noise and kept them like that, feeling the panic and nausea block every other nerve in every fiber of her being. She expected to at least hear something. Footsteps, breathing, even growls, anything. If it turned out that her house was haunted by the previous owners then she wouldn't hesitate to steal her mother's money and take the first plane from Maine.

However, there was nothing but silence.

That was until...

 _"Such sweet **fear**..."_

It wasn't the sound of any human she had ever known, neither any animal. Cassie mustered the strength to open her eyes, and what she was caused her entire body to freeze with fear and confusion.

Her mother was suddenly standing where the balloon had previously been, looking just as deadpan and as unexpressive as she had recently become. In her hand was a knife that Cassie had witnessed her mother frequently use whenever she was making food in the kitchen. However, looking at her standing there like that with it caused Cassie to feel threatened. "Mom?" She said, barely surpassing a whisper.

 _"Why must you always be such a nuisance, Cassandra?"_ Claudia, or the one she thought was her mother, asked. Disappointment and disgust filled her voice to the brink. _"Why can't you just die and save me the trouble of having to deal with you anymore?"_

This was cruel, even for Claudia to be. Cassie knew that they had never been like a mother and daughter, but she had never told her outright to just die on her. Instead of crying like a weak-willed child would upon being rejected by their own parent, Cassie felt her anger surge through her and she asked, "What the hell are you talking about?"

 _"I never wanted you, you know?"_ Claudia said slowly. _"You're just a problem I can't afford to deal with."_

Then, Cassie screamed as she watched her mother slit her own throat with the blade she had been holding from left to right, leaving nothing but a stream of blood behind. From her self-inflicted wound and onto the floor, the entire ground became filled with crimson liquid. Tears streamed down from Cassie's eyes at the sight and she felt like throwing up then and there. She was trembling, breathing like she had just run a marathon, and she dropped the bottle to the floor and grasped her hands around her mouth in an effort to keep herself from screaming any further.

The blood continued to soak the floor well beyond what felt like five liters, passing the bottoms of her shoes like slithering serpents. She didn't move, still frozen in shock over what she had just witnessed. Her mother's body laid face down on the ground, neither moving nor doing anything but what was expected from a corpse. This felt too real to be just some twisted game her imagination was playing on her. A part of her wanted to believe that it was just a nightmare, just a phantasm, but another part knew that she didn't have the mind to make up something so morbid.

Her sobs turned into insane laughs, and as the tears continued to rush down her eyes to her cheeks, she covered her face with both of her hands and shielded herself from the sight. "This is... This cannot be... Fucking Cassie... You're just nuts... This isn't..." She felt like she was losing her mind.

 _"Are you nuts, Cassie? We can still be nuts together if you want to?"_ A stranger's voice spoke up, and just for a second, Cassie pulled her hands away from her eyes and looked up.

A clown. There stood a clown in her living room where she balloon had previously been. It was dressed in a rather old clown costume, and the eyes... The eyes were in a sinister yellow that she for some reason was able to recall from somewhere else. The eyes were directed straight at her, and she felt her heart drop to her stomach as the clown's smile spread to an inhumane length, revealing glistening white teeth.

Her mother's corpse was still on the floor, neither moving nor doing anything which indicated that she was still alive. The clown bent down to pick the bloodied body by the neck, and, before Cassie's very eyes, ripped her head off. A sickening gurgling sound came her mother's neck as her head was severed by the clown's hands alone, and she watched as he laughed with devious delight and tossed the head towards her. It rolled towards her until it finally stopped, and her mother's head was directly facing up at her with dead, dark eyes.

Cassie covered her mouth and forced herself to suppress the nausea. She looked away from the head and up at the clown again, who was deliberately beginning to approach her. For each step he took, she would take one away to the side, circling away from it whilst avoiding stepping over her mother's head.

"W-Who are you?" She found her voice again, and the clown seemed all too happy with answering her question.

 _"I'm Pennywise the dancing clown, my dear,"_ He said, shaking his head at the 'dancing'. _"I'm here to take you away from this place. You'll float too."_

"Float?" She took a couple of more cautious steps to the side, only a few feet away from the door leading out of there.

 _"Yes, float. We all float in the end."_ He said, laughing like a maniac at the mention of the floating.

As soon as she reached the door, Cassie ran out of the living room and slammed the entrance door open, thinking that she was free, but only to find the clown waiting there with sharp teeth, smiling at her pathetic attempt at escaping.

 _"Why are you leaving me, Cassie? Don't you want a balloon?"_ He asked her, but the same time, all lightness was gone from its tone and was replaced with sheer and utter darkness and evil. Before she was able to turn around and run up the stairs, the clown grasped her by the throat with one hand alone and held her several feet above ground, grinning sadistically as he watched her struggle in his grasp.

Cassie tried everything from kicking him to scratching his hands, but nothing seemed to work. His grasp around her was as firm as ever and she was having trouble with breathing. If this was how she was supposed to die, at the hands of a fucking clown, then there didn't seem like there were much boundaries in the world anymore

However, out of the sudden, the clown's grin turned into a severely dark frown and she felt like it was going to kill her then and there. _"That **scent**." _The clown pulled her down towards him and inhaled deeply from the crook of her neck, and the frown shifted back into a murderous grin again, thrice as terrifying as before. It dropped her on the ground and started laughing hysterically. _"That old fool hasn't changed!"_ He yelled out and held his stomach with his hands, as if guts were threatening to spill out if he let go. It didn't seem like a too macabre comparison considering the circumstances. Cassie scrambled away from it until her back reached the bottom of the stairs, but she still didn't stop trying to get away.

The yellow eyes shifted back to her again, but the clown didn't move any closer. His eyes lingered on a point which reminded her of insatiable hunger, like an animal in the zoo that hadn't been fed for long. Cassie held her breath for what felt like hours, just expecting him to do something, anything.

Instead, he just stood there and continued to laugh at her like she was the clown in the house. He then took a step to the side, granting her free passage through the door, and without hesitating, Cassie got to her feet and ran as fast as she could out of there past the clown and didn't turn around until she reached the main road.

The clown was still standing there, waving his hand to her from the porch, grinning with sharp shark-like teeth. _"See you later, Cassie. Say 'hi' to the Turtle for me!"_

It didn't even take more than a couple of seconds before Cassie ran down the street in panic and reached the only house she knew she could stay at. There were a lot of things happening in her mind, few of which she could exploit words to describe. There was no way any of that had been real. It defied everything of law and nature. There were no evil demonic clowns in Maine, her mother hadn't slit her own throat whilst her daughter watched. None of it were real! It couldn't be!

But she was still afraid to return.

As soon as she reached the house which was her destination, she headed up to the porch and knocked frantically on the door, not even waiting before knocking again until the door finally opened, revealing a tired-looking still Richie in his pajamas. He narrowed his eyes as soon as he acknowledged that it was her and asked uncertainly, "Cassie?"

She was breathing like an animal, having been emptied of air since she came there. Panic still stuck to her like glue and she couldn't explain it to him why that was the case. She just couldn't. She didn't know how to do it without sounding like she had just escaped the insane asylum. All she knew was just that she couldn't stay in her own house, not with that _thing_ still lurking around. She felt like a burglar in the night like that but there was no one else close by she could rely on.

"Can I... Come in?"I


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own It**

 **Blog:** www _. Wood - White -Writer . Tumblr . com_

* * *

 **Chapter 8:** **Better the Devil you know than the Devil you don't**

* * *

There was no plausible way for her to tell Richie the truth. She would sound like she had just escaped from the local insane asylum if she did with the exploitation of her own words. How was she supposed to tell him that there was a demonic presence in her house in the materialized form of a clown? She hated clowns with every fiber of her being, but one thing she would be stupid enough to do was to tell _him_ that. As far as he knew, as they _all_ knew, she was Cassie - _fucking_ \- Hayes, the fearless bitch who didn't hesitate to put anything down in their places.

But there she stood, trembling uncontrollably on the porch of her neighbor like some kid who stayed up too late watching eerie horror movies when their parents clearly told them not to. Her mind was a mess, and so were her clothes. She reeked of fear from a mile away and there was nothing she could tell Richie but what she had just requested of him. "Can I come in?" No words were further permitted to escape her lips but those. They were locked shut inside of her like a hidden chest in the middle of the desert. She had struggled with saying those four separate syllables alone, how was she supposed to say anything else?

Instead of demanding answers from her like the obnoxious individual Richard Tozier was famously known for being on a daily basis, he nodded once and stepped to the side of the door, granting her passage into his house without as much as a single demand or question. Cassie was grateful for this and appreciated his generosity, stepping soundlessly inside and making her way up the stairs without attracting the attention from his parents, who were currently residing on the living room couch and watching 'The Thing' on the television without casting as much as a glance out the door to her. Their eyes were glued to the screen like a pair of hypnotized mind-slaves of some alien, occasionally munching on a pack of potato chips and other snacks but nothing else.

It didn't really seem like they were the kind of parents who spent their time looking properly after their son, but more on trivial stuff such as television and hobbies. There was a point where Cassie sympathized with his situation, as she too knew what it felt like to be ignored by her own parents, but she didn't comment anything about it and continued making her way up the stairs with as little noise as possible. Only a few insignificant creeks were heard from the weight of her footsteps as they walked up the visibly old stairsteps, but nothing which would earn her the unwanted acknowledgment of Mr. and Mrs. Tozier, much to her relief.

Richie followed quietly after her, though less silent in order to assure that his parents didn't suspect anything out of the ordinary, and then proceeded to surpass her as they reached the last step and entered a door which was labeled with several posters, stickers of cartoon characters, and 'KEEP OUT' signs. It didn't take a genius to know that that room belonged to Richie himself, and judging on how his door was the only one with noticeable markings on them, Cassie doubted he had any younger or older siblings, or any siblings at all. If so, that was his business and nothing she needed to poke her nose into.

He opened the door and let her inside, shutting it quietly behind him. Her eyes scanned across the room for the few seconds her uneasiness had decreased. Surprisingly, it was a fairly average bedroom enough, decorated with posters of celebrities such as Bad Boy Bill, Jimmy Salvie, and Kid Jensen. She knew Richie was good at intimidating people and acting like someone else, but she never particularly guessed that he was interested in DJs and music such as those kinds. She was more of the chilled pop-kind of person, but she didn't necessarily have anything against rapping as long as they were good and not anything lousy.

There were also movie posters on his walls and on the closet doors featuring the horror genres specifically. Freddie Krueger from _Nightmare on Elm Street_ , Michael Myers from _Halloween_ , _Dracula the Vampire_ , et cetera. However, there weren't any signs of any werewolves anywhere, much to Cassie' surprise. She always assumed that every horror fan would at least have something werewolf-based from the 1950's _I Was A Werewolf_.Everyone who knew anything about horror would at least include that, unless there was a specific reason he wasn't into the canine-classic.

"So," Richie said, snapping her back into focus and away from the posters. Cassie turned around to face him and her unusual paleness returned to her features again upon recalling the specific reason why she went there in the first place. He apparently noticed her uneasiness and readjusted his glasses on the brim of his nose and opened his mouth again to say something, but she beat him to it.

"Sorry if this is inconvenient," she apologized inaudibly, feeling genuinely regretful about having bothered him with her own delusional problems. "But I have nowhere else to go, and I think that there's someone in my house." She wasn't lying straight to his face, but she knew that she couldn't expose him to the same madness she was currently experiencing herself. Besides, much like the Cassandra from the stories her history teacher told her back in primary school, she knew he wouldn't believe her even if she did go into the focus of what had really happened. Richie was the person she least expected to believe in such unthinkable crap. If it even _was_ thinkable to begin with. For all she knew, it could all have just been some imaginative piece of shit her mind had produced due to the deprivation of sleep as of recently. It shouldn't have come as a surprise if her mind was making stuff up as a result of the negligence of her body.

Richie halted for a second, not knowing quite what to say at first, but then found his voice again. "Someone? Who?"

She shook her head in response, not knowing the answer to the question herself as much as she would want to. "I don't know, but he attacked me."

" _He_?" Richie blinked beneath his abnormally large glasses, readjusting them once again despite not being in any discomfort with their current position on his nose. "Did you see his face? Did you try calling the police?"

 _Sure_ , she mentally commented sarcastically and felt tempted to roll her eyes. _The police would be able to locate a sinister-ass clown who made her see her own mother slit her throat and soak the entire floor with her blood and then proceed to teleport from one room to outside her entrance door. Yeah, that was highly likely, right?_

Instead, she made due with letting out a heavy exhale and shook her head again. "No, I didn't. It was too dark, and I got out of there as soon as I could."

"Did he hurt you?" he asked, unknowingly raising his voice a bit. The change of action seemingly caught them both by surprise.

Again, she shook her head. How was she supposed to explain what she saw? "No, not really. He scared me, yes, but not on a physical point. I got out before he could." What she really meant to say was _'Yes, he made me watch my own mother slit her throat with a kitchen knife and then held me up by the throat_ ', but she refrained. It would do little good to let him in on the reality of it all without making it sound like some story a fanatic would make up to make more people take her word for it blindly. She knew people like that, she, needless to say, she didn't wish to follow the said pattern.

Richie seemed like he was debating something, which was an expression she never thought she would see on his face for as far as she knew him. Whatever it was that he was thinking, it was no doubt something gravely serious, for him to be.

Meanwhile, what Richie was truly debating with himself was far from what she would have guessed. He had never had a girl stay with him in his room his entire life, and if his parents caught him with a girl in his bedroom at night, there would be some serious explaining for him to do. Still, Cassie seemed hardly like a girl at all, and if it hadn't been for seeing her partially exposed when they went to the quarry earlier the same day, he would've almost second-guessed her gender. A flat-chest like her could easily pass through the crowd as androgynous if she had put her mind into it, and the sight would've been a bemusing one.

Nevertheless, she _was_ a girl, and it didn't make his situation any less awkward. They could, of course, call the cops and explain the situation to them, but his parents would most likely not agree to deal with a problem that didn't involve them. They were official citizens of Derry, and the people of Derry were _always_ nonchalant about matters that didn't appeal to them personally. He didn't like it, but he had lived there far too long to get shocked by the characteristics which made the town known for their slyness.

However, he couldn't just turn Cassie down and tell her to get lost like a piece of shit. If he did, then she would most certainly not like his company anymore and perhaps even quit their friendship without second thoughts. He had gotten acquainted with her enough to consider her a friend, perhaps even a fellow trash-mouth like himself (he still held firmly on that title with pride), and making her an enemy hardly seemed like the wise course of action. Her indifference towards someone like Henry Bowers just proved that, and he would most likely not enjoy getting himself in trouble with her if he got on her bad side.

There were only two choices in the dilemma he was stuck with: One, let her stay there and risk getting exposed by his parents and make the situation even more awkward than it already was, or two, tell her to get lost and lose a friend he would much rather stick by than get on the bad side of. Neither results were preferable, but only one of them would result in potentially lasting consequences, and he had yet to decide on which of the options was it.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his left index finger and thumb, cursing to himself before he answered. "You could stay here for tonight, but only if you feel like you need to." It didn't come out as hospitable as it was supposed to, but he didn't actually know how to make it sound any more approachable. It wasn't every day that he offered a girl his room as a temporary sanctuary.

Cassie's eyes lit somewhat over the dark circles beneath them, a sense of hope perhaps? Was she really feeling that paranoid and... _Scared_? That word was one he didn't expect to associate with the Hayes girl of all people. Even Eddie was more of a girl than she was, and that was not an overreaction at all. Then again, if he had been attacked by some kind of intruder in his own home when he was alone, he would too have been scared shitless. It made sense for a human being to be scared about such things like that, but not for Cassie. She had kicked Vic Criss' ass in the grocery store without as much as a hint of regret, and he was known as one of Henry Bowers' most trusted bitches. She didn't even heed the consequences of her actions.

Before she could open her mouth to come with a reply, the Tozier boy walked over to his closet and pulled out an old and smelly but decent-looking blanket. It was something his mother had given him one Christmas evening when they were opening the presents, but it was pink and embroidered with butterflies and flowers so he never used it unless he was truly desperate on a cold night. He had genuinely considered his mother's mental state that winter, but nevertheless had to accept it since it was 'goodwill to all' and that bullshit. He doubted Cassie would approve of its appearance, but one thing he could easily tell was that neither of them was in any position to argue about trivialities.

He kicked away all the scattered magazines and toys that had been lying carelessly on the floor and made clear of a spot where he placed the blanket down and folded it out to the corners. It wasn't much of a comfortable place to sleep, he imagined, but his bed was too small for both and even if it was big enough, he wouldn't think about asking her to share a bed with him. That was where he drew the line. Still, the summer of 1989 was a hot one, both inside and outside, so he doubted that she would necessarily freeze to death. Besides, the blanket was big enough to fold over her if it ever came to that point.

He looked up at Cassie and she nodded at him, seemingly content with her spot enough to not complain. He lifted a finger and pointed to his door. "The bathroom is the first door to the left across the wall if you ever need to piss, but if my parents find you then we're both fucked. Get it?"

She nodded again and rubbed both of her eyes. "Yeah, I get it... Thanks, by the way, Richie." It was a quiet word of approval, nearly inaudible, but he heard it well enough. He moved away from the spot and she instantaneously laid her tired self down on top of the blanket and used both of her arms as pillows under her head, not even wishing him a good night before he could hear the snoring escape her.

Richie paused for a second to look at her, not in a creepy way but in a curious way. He couldn't imagine ever looking at her like Patrick Hockstetter tended to look at the girls in their school, that was just scooping down too low, but seeing someone like Cassie sleep so peacefully was beyond him, mainly because he always assumed she would fall asleep like roadkill. He didn't like her like the way it was obvious that Ben liked Beverly, but that didn't mean he didn't approve of Cassie or Beverly like one of them. They were friends of his, and he would be stupid to throw that away because of petty gender differences.

The only reason he looked down at her as she slept was because he felt tempted to draw in her face with the marker on top of his nightstand. But he _did_ want to live to see the morning.

* * *

 _Its mouth was smeared with the blood of Its recent victim, a young boy named David who didn't know better than to listen to his mother and stay clear of the woods at nighttime. The runt had been too restless, too determined to prove himself braver than the other brats in the village. Then again, maybe It shouldn't complain when it came to the stupidity of the Turtle's creations. They were tasty, especially when they were afraid. David was no exception, especially after It displayed Its rows of teeth momentarily before taking a generous portion of the boy's face._

 _It was gratifying, to say the least. For so long it had consumed the flesh of those witless humans, those weakwilled prey of Its, but never did he take the taste of their fear for granted. Never did it wish for anything else whenever it woke up from Its long rest but to be able to indulge in Its desires without any interruption from anyone, not that they would ever be able to._

 _That night, however, was proven to be an exception._

 _"You truly are a sloppy creature," a voice from behind the well-house said. A voice It would do well to remember for the next years which would pass._

 _Its head snapped up from the carcass it was feeding off, and Its tongue slithered across Its mouth to savor the taste before It would be forced to dispose of the intruder of Its delicious meal. If there was one thing It despised more than not being able to eat properly, it would be an interruption when in the middle of a feast. The sensation was an uncommon one, but a bothersome one nonetheless._

 _It prepared to turn around and change into the thing It knew that wretched child would fear the most, but the thing which shocked It the most was that It was unable to detect any lingering trace of fear. There wasn't a single piece. Even the boldest of adults had something which they feared, but this sole child, this brat, didn't have as much as a single piece. It was inhuman._

 _"Who are you?" It asked, concealing the craving hunger that still plagued it with the innocent clown persona It had adapted over the years. Usually, that was all it took to convince Its prey that It was harmless and friendly, but as It turned around to face the brat, It spotted no such naivety among her facial features. As blank as a porcelain doll, though more artificial._

 _She didn't move, nor did she say anything until It smeared some of the blood from the outline of Its jaws._

* * *

Getting some sleep was refreshing even though she didn't get a large amount of it. She ended up waking up early in the morning, barely past seven o'clock before she threw the folded sheet off her and sat up on the floor. Her head started to throb against her cranium from the quick actions and she growled before placing her hand over her head in response to the unexpected pain. She hadn't eaten properly since yesterday afternoon, and if she didn't get sustenance on balanced time, it would heavily impact her day and not in a good way.

Looking over her shoulder to Richie, she found him facing away from her to the wall with loud snoring sounds escaping from him. Cassie found it funny how those hadn't interrupted her sleep throughout the night even a single time. It seemed highly unlikely that his snoring wasn't the main source of problems for the other residents of the home. Seriously, they were loud enough to be heard through a closed window, and she didn't doubt the possibility of the neighbors being capable of hearing them from across the yard as loud as he unintentionally was.

After having regained her composure, Cassie quietly got up from the floor and headed over to the window. Since it was summer, it was impossible for the darkness to truly claim the outside world. Winter was a worse when it came to the subject of fright. The cold was just an attribute, but it brought with itself so much calamity based on the personal perception of every human which existed that there simply wasn't anything else to associate it with but fear. In reality, the winter and summer were polar opposites, but the sentimental values considered them more than that. It was emotionally foolish, but nonetheless a part of human nature.

Cassie grabbed the handle of the window and forced it open, letting the cold morning air inside of the room. Richie started to move in his sleep as a result of this change of atmosphere but fortunately did not wake up to watch her let herself out of the window and into the backyard. The second floor of the house wasn't as high up as traditional houses were, and that certainly benefited her more than she would ever imagine it would. But before she left, she made sure to write with a marker she found on his drawer 'SORRY, GOTTA GO' on a note and leave it on the floor where she had slept.

The impact on the ground did hardly hurt as much as she thought it would, but the tingle beneath her soles was inevitable to notice as her shoes hit the grass. "Piece of shit." She grumbled and started walking without bothering to remedy the ache. Not that it mattered either way. As soon as she exited the neighborhood, instead of getting home, she made a beeline towards town. There was no way in any actual hell that she was going to enter that blasted house unless she made a deal with the devil himself. She doubted any stores were open so early in the morning, but at least it was better than going back there.

True enough, few stores were open. The pharmacy had yet to stand with a creepy-ass clerk inside it, the grocery store showed sign of life but no visible maintenance yet, and then there was the Fine Diner. Surprising enough, she spotted Pamela inside washing the tables with a weary expression on her face. Cassie couldn't imagine that waking up barely past six in the morning was anything to look forward to each day, but that provided her with a living. If she could call it living at all. She seemed to serve more people than she served herself, at least from her perspective of it.

She doubted many other stores were up, so Cassie made due with whatever she could get and made her path towards the diner, not even looking on each side of the road before she crossed it. Turned out that her tendencies towards impulsivities became a source of trouble that day, not nearly as much as it could have become, but still. Without her acknowledgment, a pair of wheels was rolling down the road from the right side and indirectly towards her. The rider had barely had any sleep earlier in the night and had just made his early delivery to the butcher. That meant he wasn't properly able to detect the walking girl before it became too late.

 _CRASH!_

In less than seconds, both the Hayes girl and the bicycle boy were on either side of each other, lying on the opposite sides like they had just fought a war. The wheels of the bike on the ground were still rolling.

"Ugh, the fuck?" Cassie groaned as she struggled to get up. There was something warm trickling down from her forehead and it didn't take a genius-level IQ to figure out that it was blood. Great. The thing she was the most in need of was yet another headache. Things just got better and better as the days in that wretched town progressed. When she got to her knees and looked up, she spotted a dark-skinned boy lying opposite from her, in seemingly just an equal amount of pain as she was in. As much as she wanted to berate him for not looking straight, she wasn't going to pull some racist slurs on him like the piece of shit she knew Bowers would. Dark skin or light skin was the same shit to her like sugar and salt. At least in appearances.

The boy got up as well, more unsteadily than she did, and his eyes landed on her. He didn't look like he was hurt in any way except having just landed on his ass from a fucked-up bike ride, but that didn't matter. "I'm sorry," he said hurriedly and scrambled to his feet, avoiding her eyes like she possessed an evil eye or two. "I'm so sorry."

"Relax, Jumbo, I'm fine," she assured him and waved her arm dismissively. She didn't have the energy to make a big deal out of it. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said, grabbing his bike and pulling it up from the asphalt. "I'm fine."

"Good," she said with a nod. "Sorry about that."

"That's... Fine." He said though it was sure that he was less than motivated to keep the conversation going. She didn't blame him and moved out of his way. He gave her a short-lived nod before he got on his bike and rode away down the street out of sight.

* * *

"Well, someone's ear- Holy shit, kid! What the hell happened to you!"

Being nearly forty of age, Pamela Parker thought she had seen her fair share of weird stuff in her life. Like her crazy old uncle said, the town was a cursed place to reside in, but she never believed him, though, like all the other citizens of Derry. Boring, sure, but never crazy to that degree that it was noticeable from the exterior perspective. Then again, after having stayed there for nearly two decades or so without doing much but serve a bunch of self-centered assholes in the only place she inherited from her parents after their death at the hands of a goddamn accident, she had grown accustomed to seeing all kinds of weird people talking about weird things. Nothing worth noting down and nothing paying any attention to.

Or so she thought.

The doors to the diner opened and the bell above the frame let out a light _pling._ It was only thirty minutes past six in the morning, and though she had grown used to seeing early birds or truck drivers enter in search of an acceptable meal to fill their growling stomachs, she neither spotted the former nor the latter in the doorframe. Instead, she spotted the new girl she had met the previous week, the one the Bowers gang had consistently asked for during the last couple of days. But what caught her off-guard the most that morning wasn't the sight of the young girl herself, but the visible streak of red down from her forehead on the side. The girl looked like she had just been in a fight with a ten-feet tall monster. Had she?

Cassie couldn't help but let out a raspy laugh as she entered the diner and shut the door behind her. "Funny story," she said. "Just crashed into someone on his bike."

Pamela sighed and headed for the backroom to get a medical kit from the wall. "Wait a minute, kid. I'll be back."

"Sure thing," was all Cassie replied with before she placed herself down on one of the island chairs by the desk. Truth be told, it didn't hurt as much now as it did then, but she could still feel the warm substance on her skin. She wasn't a stranger to the feeling of blood on her, especially if it was her own, but it would never be something to surprise her even if it was unwarranted. There was a time back in Asheville where she got into all sorts of shit, including fights with the other students at her school. She was a punk, no less now that then. But she was not a bully. She didn't pick on others to feel better about herself. That was a Henry Bowers-kind of level she didn't want to sink to.

"You mentioned crashing into a boy outside," Pamela came back from the backroom with a kit in her hands and placed it down in front of Cassie. "Was he African-American?" It was an odd question as she opened the kit and pulled out a band-aid and some cleansing substance with a q-tip. Before she could argue against it, Cassie felt the sting from the cleansing water hit her on the forehead where she cut was located. It hurt like a bitch, but rather than complaining about what she knew would help her, she bit down the urge to yelp and stayed still. Pamela seemed like she knew what she was doing, or even if she didn't, she didn't state it aloud.

"Do you know him?" Cassie answered the question with another one.

"Yeah," Pamela answered and pulled the q-tip away. "That's Mike Hanlon, the grandson of the local butcher's delivery man. You don't see a lot of colored people around this place

"Really?"

As she asked that, Pamela firmly placed the band-aid on her forehead put the kit away. "Yeah, and I don't blame them. The Bowers' and the Hanlons have never been on good terms with each other, and I'm not just talking about racial shit and stuff like that. I'm talking about real shit."

"What else has been going on between them?"

She tilted her head to either side, regretting what she was about to say before actually saying it. "You remember the pissant, Henry? Not too long ago he poisoned Mike's dog. Caused all sort of shit to happen from there."

Her eyes grew larger. She knew Henry was a piece of shit, but even that escalated what she first insinuated about him. As unlikely as it seemed, Cassie had grown fond of animals over the years, but the mention of one getting killed just to spite someone else was just petty, even for him. "You're not joking. Seems exactly like something Bowers would do." She commented with a scoff and leaned her head on her elbow down on the counter. "No offense, but your town is full of shitty people as far as I can tell."

Pamela nodded her head in agreement, grabbing a piece of cloth on the counter and throwing it into the back. "Not gonna judge you there, but I would still recommend that you stay away from Bowers."

She shrugged. "Trying to."

"And failing, by the looks of it." The woman's eyes narrowed. "They came here not too long ago, you know? They were asking for you."

This perked Cassie's alertness and she sat up again, starring at Pamela with intensity at what she was indicating. "What did you tell them?"

Pamela shrugged. "What I always tell him. Fuck off."

Cassie sagged in relief and lowered her shoulders, feeling a weight drop off her shoulders. "I like you, you know that?" She said with a grin.

"Likewise, kid. Likewise." Pamela turned her head towards the entrance door to see if anyone else were entering, but upon spotting no one she resumed her conversation with the girl and allowed herself to relax. It was hard being a waitress without letting the spite enter her words as she was forced to serve such assholes on a daily basis, but it was a relief that she didn't have to keep it up with the Hayes girl. Turning around, she opened the fridge in the back and pulled out a carton of orange juice and filled a glass with it. It was obvious that the girl needed some. "On the house," she said and put a straw next to it. The girl nodded with an appreciative smile and saluted her before taking a sip of it.

"So, Cassie, was it? What are you doing here so early?" Pamela asked curiously and leaned forth on the counter.

Cassie frowned at the mention of this. Much like she did with Richie, she didn't let the truth slip from her lips as easy as that. It would cause more problems than she could afford. "I... There was someone in my house."

"Someone? Who?"

Cassie shook her head. "I- I don't know. It wasn't my parents, at least."

"Did you call them and tell them about what happened?"

"No."

"Why?"

That wasn't a question she found hard to answer. No excuses required. "My parents and I aren't as close as most families are. They wouldn't believe me even if I said the truth. They'd just berate me for being so problematic."

Instead of criticising her for her actions, the waitress nodded with a note of understanding. "I get it."

"You do?"

"Yup," she replied and sank back to her leg and crossed her arms. "Didn't have a close relationship with my parents either. We would shout at each other for hours for everything or nothing. Then there was the car crash eight years ago. Poor bastards didn't make it out, but you get this feeling that even if you weren't close, there will always be that thing in your life you feel is missing."

Cassie let those words sink into her. Her parents and she weren't on a close term, but that didn't mean she wanted them to die or abandon her. The image of how her mother slit her own throat whilst telling how she was but a problem she couldn't afford to deal with still traumatized her to think about. The clown wasn't the severity of the predicament she had been forced to endure, whatever that sick piece of shit thought he could get away with or whatever sick piece of shit he was. She was still debating with herself whether what she had seen was real, and something inside of her actually wanted it to be the case. At least she knew she wasn't crazy.

"Anyway, I'll go home later," Cassie assured her and let out a deep breath. "Until then, I think I'll stay put for a little while."

"Probably wise, kid. I'd go to the Police later if I were you." Pamela advised, to which she nodded. "But right now, I think you're in need of something to chew on."

Cassie let out a chuckle. Such kind and generous people weren't easy to find in Derry for all she knew, but it was good to know that such people weren't completely emptied in the category. "I don't have any money, though. Besides, you've already helped me enough with Bowers and all."

Pamela waved her hand dismissively at her argument and was already headed towards the kitchen. "Don't worry about it. Just tell me if you prefer pancakes or eggs with bacon."

Sighing in defeat, Cassie leaned back into her seat and let her mind wander. "I think it'll do nicely with something sugary."

"Pancakes it is, then?"

"Yeah."

Cassie could hear her start to prepare everything in the kitchen, all from cracking the eggs to sifting the flour. Homemade stuff was always so much more tasty and delicious when made from the bottom up. Cheap store-bought crap was good, true, but it could never compare to the sense of satisfaction which accompanied the taste of something made from the hands. There was a period where her mother attempted to make pancakes for breakfast, but everything became burnt and she left the house to deal with her temper tantrum. She never tried again to make anything herself.

"By the way, kid, heard what happened to Hockstetter?" Pamela called from the kitchen, her eyes never moved away from the batter she was preparing.

Cassie nodded. "Yeah, the poor bastard is missing. Isn't that right?"

"At least someone actually acknowledges his absence," she said and started to make some toast. "I personally never liked the guy. Brat was a juvie of the worst kind, even worse than Bowers himself. However, when shit like this starts going on and people don't as much as bat an eye, you start to get paranoid. What if you yourself went missing and nobody cares? Wouldn't _that_ be fun?" Sarcasm oozed from the older woman's tone like saliva.

"Hell if I know," Cassie replied indifferently and leaned against the counter. "All I know is that if I went missing, I'd want to know who did it before I died."

"You think they'll find him?"

Cassie hesitated before she answered. The poster of Georgie Denbrough was still attached to the board on the wall, but he was still missing. "I don't know."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own IT**

 **Blog:** _www. Wood - White - Writer . Tumblr . Com_

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Barking Dogs never bite**

* * *

After finishing her meal at the Fine Diner and thanking Pamela for her generosity, Cassie left the center of town and headed for the local park instead. It was past eight in the morning and some of the other stores were starting to open up and welcome customers as well as they could, not that they were exactly doing a good job in leaving the ambition out of their dramatic welcoming speeches. It seemed like a required qualification to be able to conceal their selfishness and ambitious characteristics if anyone ever wanted to be viewed as true citizens of Derry. She wasn't planning on following the pattern unlike her parents, who already seemed like they were fitting in quite well with the rest of them.

The sun was up but the air was still damp and chilly, like autumn in the afternoon. It wasn't much unlike Asheville in the morning, yet possessed some kind of characteristics about them which made them stand out from one-another. It wasn't so cold that it made any difference to her bodily temperature, but there was something about it which made her feel some sort of comfort away from what occurred the other night. It didn't bother her so much anymore, and she had deliberately chosen to suppress the memories and deem them nothing more but visions caused by sleep-deprivation and lack of proper nutrients. It seemed more logical than just assuming an insane creep wearing a goddamn Ronald McDonald-costume was haunting her and decided pulled some sort of ominous trick on her to make her envision the death of one of her parents. How was that even possible?

More and more people eventually started to exit their homes and wander the streets to do God knew what. She knew better than to question their morals or their intentions. Getting involved with what didn't occur to her was one of the unspoken rules of Derry she could appeal to. Not that she hadn't already broken it on several occasions. However, if she excluded the predicaments with the Losers she had as of recently started addressing as her friends, she would still be standing in the twilight-zone of those regulations.

She passed by the streets and the alleys, none which she could pay to care about but one of them caught her interest more than she knew it should've. Looking to the left into an alley, her eyes landed on the missing poster she found attached to one of the boards on the wall. It was of Patrick Hockstetter. She had seen it somewhere before, but that wasn't what made her draw towards it and rip it off the wall. There were several other posters beneath it, making a stack of papers in total. The one behind Hockstetter's one was that of Betty Ripsom, the one she was faintly able to recall as one of the people she was supposed to join classes with. She never showed up in a single one of them.

There were, even more, posters stacked behind hers as well. A girl named Tania McGowan, an Asian boy named Jonathan Chan, another boy named Eric Deros. More and more posters invaded her sight all the way down to the one she was easily able to remember as Georgie Denbrough, Bill's brother. What revolted her the most wasn't the number of children that had gone missing since a year ago itself, but the fact that so many people seemed to ignore the events like they were either too ignorant or too stupid to tell the differences between accidents and kidnappings. So far, she understood that none of them had been found yet and that only alarmed her even further.

Casse backed away from all of the torn posters and quickly resumed with making her way towards the park to get some air she knew she was unable to get in the middle of town. Despite it being a rather natural town with trees and plants all the way down to the edge of the perimeter, there was something about it which plagued her sense of comfort. She didn't want to go missing, and she certainly did not want to die. It wasn't the worst thing that could happen to her out of all the numerous other worse things that could happen prior to that. She doubted these disappearances were caused by either accident or by fate. She didn't believe much in the latter anyway.

Then suddenly, without paying attention to where she was walking, her shoulder crashed into that of someone else. It didn't hurt her as much as that bike ride earlier did, but there was a noticeable push from the other part, making it seem like it was intentional. Having had enough problems for one morning, Cassie snapped her head to the one she had crashed into and said, "Watch it, dick."

"Hayes?"

 _Oh, fuck no._

"Bowers?" Cassie did not waste any time taking a severe amount of steps in the opposite direction before turning back to look at him. True enough, it was Henry Cowers himself, accompanied by none other but Criss and Huggins themselves. However, it didn't take her long to recall that Hockstetter was excluded from the pack due to his status as a missing person. Though it relieved her that she didn't need to put up with that piece of shit, the glares the other three were giving her didn't relieve her of the uneasiness. They were the people she last wanted to see. Ever.

"Cowers," she suppressed the urge to smirk. "It's been some time. How've you been? Last I recalled, you were supposed to kill me three days ago. Haven't really succeeded, have you?" It was nothing but petty taunts to aggravate him, but they sure worked their magic. If there was something Cassandra Hayes had made a habit (and inborn talent) of hers, then it was to piss people off where she knew it would be efficient. It didn't require a lot of effort to taunt people if she knew where to push, and when it came to the narcissistic persona of Henry Bowers, that meant his pride.

It was obvious by the way his eyes twitched that she had successfully been able to push some of his buttons, but not enough to make it worth the effort. Cassie put both of her hands in the back pockets of her shorts and started to tumble purposefully in her steps, grinning sly and never letting her eyes wander towards anything but the pack of punks that had made themselves her target of taunts. The reason why she wasn't feeling as threatened now as she would be had they been alone was because she knew not even Bowers would get impulsive enough to risk a public ordeal. His father was a cop, and by the looks of it, they didn't have the most functional of relationships. All the more reasons to grasp the opportunity whilst she had it.

Bowers took a step forward, a short one but a significant one nonetheless. Any other kids with even the tiniest hint of fear towards the delinquent would've straightaway peed their pants if he had ever approached them like that, but her own arrogance didn't falter from the gesture. His eyes said it all. All bark and no bite, at least for now. She knew better to piss with him for the heck of it, but there was this sense of superiority which suddenly began to outweigh her better judgment. It shouldn't have, but she let it anyway.

"Your days are numbered, Hayes," he threatened, hoping to bring out some fear in the usually composed features of hers. He was internally disappointed (and angered) upon seeing her chuckle at his statement.

"I recall you said that some days ago. Like I said," she held her arms up. "I'm waiting."

"Well, you don't have to wait much longer. I can promise you that." He took another couple of steps towards her, each of them grew heavier than the previous ones.

Cassie, though somewhat threatened now than before, didn't lose her stance. "Try me. That's all you'll be good for, Bowers. A sissy with daddy-issues that takes his anger out on others just because he gets off with it. You're more pathetic than an ant during the summer." She may have regretted those words she had spoken, but she didn't for a single second, not even when Bowers grabbed her by the throat and began to drag her against the alley closest to them. His grip was harsh, suffocating, and she knew it would without a doubt leave some sort of mark or bruise.

Criss and Huggins The brick wall between the alley crashed into her back and she let out a yelp, but the only thing she came to face was Bowers' menacing glare. His lips were pressed together so tight that the lines between his bottom lips were revealing themselves, and his head shook with all the rage that he struggled to keep contained. The grip around her throat hurt to the point where she wrapped both her hands around his hand in a vast attempt to allow her even a remote amount of oxygen. He was much stronger than him, stronger than she initially expected, and she didn't possess the strength to get him off her. He wasn't as feeble as Gretta Keene.

"You think you're so tough, huh, Hayes?" He asked, tightening his fist on the other hand. "You think that just because you wrecked our car that you think you're better than us?" His face drew closer to hers, his breath ruffling the few ajar strands of her hair away from her face. An urge to spit in his face and get out of there fell over her, but his grip was too tight to grant her the chance of doing so. His breath reeked of all things unimaginable, and quite frankly, she didn't was to even imagine all the shit he had had in his mouth over the time.

He then shifted his head frantically around, searching for something in the narrow alley. At first, she didn't know what it was that he was looking for, but that was until he grabbed a piece of broken glass from the trashcan beside them and she immediately understood what it was that he was intending on doing. Her mind went rapidly as he kept his hold on her just as firm as always, and the shard closed in on her inch by inch with his trembling hands. Desperate to get away, she looked for an escape route, yet there was none except the one past Criss and Huggins, who were becoming rather unnerved about what was happening in front of them.

"You know what, bitch," Bowers said dangerously low as the tip of the shard came into contact with the skin of her left cheek. Already by then, Cassie was shaking her head frantically and did everything to try and push him away from him, but he was as stiff as a statue and twice as unmoveable. His hand then wrapped around her chin and forced her to face up. "Maybe you'll look fuckable if you had some more color on your face." There was an ominous and sadistic vibe coming from him, and he was grinning as he thought about the best ways to mutilate her face.

Again, Cassie violently shook her head and tried to move away, but to no avail at all. In fact, it only seemed to entice him further. Finally, he dug the shard deeper into her face, piercing through her skin. Cassie let out an ear-piercing scream from both the agony and out of hope that someone, anyone, would hear her and get help against this maniac. Unfortunately, nobody came.

Bowers tightened his grip on her jaw, muffling her voice, and continued to carve in the first initial of his name as visibly as he was able to. Crimson blood began to stream down from her cheek and drip down onto the pavement beneath them. The pain from her cheek surged through her and caused her almost to allow tears to grow seeable in her eyes, but she wouldn't let herself become humiliated by crying in front the fucker that did that to her. She wouldn't grant him the satisfaction of watching her crumble.

With as much strength she could muster in his grip, Cassie slowly lifted her head up and looked over his shoulder, still searching for some kind of path for her to escape, some kind of road she could take where she knew Bowers couldn't follow after her... But what she saw was much more petrifying. _Yellow eyes and a toothy grin_ , the same ones she had seen the night before. At that point, Henry Bowers seemed much less threatening than the clown did. The funny thing was that it wasn't even in a corporeal form. It was a graffiti on the wall, one that both waved and winked towards her whilst displaying its shark-like grin.

"Henry, stop it!" Criss shouted from where he stood, yet made no visible attempt at actually preventing him from continuing. Cassie snapped back away from the clown on the wall and put her focus back on Bowers, who suddenly seemed much less threatening now that she had just witnessed the face of true horror. In comparison, Bowers was nothing more but a fly compared to that hideous face on the wall.

"SHUT UP!" Bowers turned his face away to shout at his indirect accomplices, and without even thinking about the consequences of her actions, Cassie gritted her teeth together beneath her lips and kneed him as hard as she could into the crotch, feeling the curves of his unimaginable balls squeeze under the pressure. Bowers immediately crumbled to a ball-like position on the ground, taking deep and hoarse inhales like he had just been shot in the chest. As much as she wanted to stay there and enjoy the view of the paper man crumbling, she took off and successfully managed to dodge both of Criss and Huggins as she made her way out of the alley and down the street.

If one thing was for certain, getting to the park was out of the question. She was vaguely able to spot that wrecked-up car outside of the alley where she had found them, so it wouldn't take them long to chase after her if that was the case. She needed to get out of there, someplace she knew they would be unable to find her. Her own home was out of the question, Richie's house wasn't her safety-place and she didn't want to drag him down with her. Then there was no place else she could go to, not someplace where it would be obvious that Bowers would find her.

After having run for quite some time, she turned around yet another corner and faced another alley, but fortunately not a tight one or a dead end. She would be able to pass through it, but her lungs had been emptied of air and there was a risk that her wound could get contaminated if she didn't get it checked out soon. Finding a spot to rest by, Cassie sat down next to the stairs leading up to some upper apartments and took deep breaths. Her heart was throbbing painfully against her ribcages and her cheek still ached. She drew the back of her hand across it and found it smeared with the blood upon inspecting it.

"Great," she mumbled sourly. "Just what I needed. Bullies, a goddamn clown, just my fucking luck."

"Cassie?" A voice called from behind her.

Cassie raised her head again and looked up the stairs of the upper apartments. "Beverly?"

True enough, the Marsh girl walked down the stairs at a quick pace and reached Cassie at the bottom of them in less than seconds. At first, there was a benevolent smile on her face, but upon putting her eyes on the nasty-looking cuts on her cheek, her smile faltered and she instantly grew concerned. "What happened?" She asked and indicated with her hands that she was about to touch it, but Cassie refrained from her touch before she was able to. She didn't have typically fond memories of being caressed on her face, neither by friends nor family. Especially the latter.

"I..." She scratched the back of her head again with uncertainty. " _Stumbled_ upon Henry Bowers."

"What did he do to you? Come on, we should treat it." Without even waiting to let Cassie reply, Beverly grabbed her by the wrist and started pulling her up the stairs with her to the highest apartment door in the building.

"Uhm... What about your parents?" Cassie asked, ignoring the awkward sensation of being dragged up like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

"My... Dad is currently working and won't be back until late afternoon today, and my mom died some time ago," Beverly's voice became low. "Cancer."

"I'm sorry," Cassie condoled, feeling slightly guilty over having brought up the subject in the first place. "Then, how about after we fix my wound, we get the boys together and figure out something to do. What about that?"

"I actually called them not too long ago," Beverly explained, opening the door and gesturing for Cassie to step inside. "They'll be here, I hope."

Detecting the uncertainty in her tone, Cassie patted Beverly on the back with an assuring smile on her face. She knew what it was like to judge people about friendship and such, but she didn't question that these guys were those kinds of douchebags, just as she assured Ben earlier that Beverly would show up at the quarry. "Don't worry. They'll come. They're cool guys."

Her words seemed to bring reassurance to Beverly, which was exactly what she had hoped would happen. "Yeah, I hope so."

They both stepped into the apartment and Beverly shut the door behind them. The apartment was a vacant one, lightless, deserted. The place lacked everything of qualifications a home needed to be deemed as such. Then again, her own home couldn't exactly judge as well either. Every morning she would spot Claudia with her face buried in the daily newspapers whereas Jeffery would remain glued to the television screen like a fly attached to rotten flesh just like he had the night before, and the night before that, then the night before that as well. There were seldom greetings, no smiles, hardly any acknowledgment at all. Her feet would step over the floor, causing it to creak like thick snow under her boots during the winter, but not even those sounds granted her any attention from either parent. Not even as a child.

Beverly Marsh didn't seem to have it any less difficult maintaining her own relationship with her father. In fact, from what she was able to judge from the facial features she revealed upon mentioning her parents' existence, Cassie had been vaguely capable of distinguishing one of the cryptic messages they let out into the open without requiring any verbal response. ' _I don't want to talk about him.'._ It was an odd request, but she understood that she didn't possess the authority to barge in on her personal life. She wasn't anyone's guard dog, but she was their friend. _Her_ friend. She didn't quite understand when it had become a trait of hers of so publicly address either of those acquaintances of hers as such, but she knew that she didn't regret anything. _Friends_.

Beverly gestured for her to wait in the living room as she headed to the kitchen, which was connected to the living room through a narrow hallway. Cassie let her eyes wander over the dull-looking space, silently inspecting everything from the pictures hanging on the wall to the odd alabaster-colored China in the cupboards. Positioned in the darkest corner of the room was a single chair, not even placed in front of any TV like her own father preferred it, and there was something about it which sent chills up her arms for some reason. It reminded her of the throne of a cruel king in the stories her deceased grandmother would tell her in her childhood. The cruel king who would watch in pleasure as his people suffered under his reign.

"Why are you out here so early, anyway?" Beverly asked from the kitchen, snapping her thoughts back into place. "I always assumed you were like those people who enjoyed sleeping through half the day." She laughed timidly at the last words of the sentence and Cassie couldn't stop herself from laughing along with her. True, she was usually the kind of person who wasted her time through unproductive means such as sleep or otherwise solitary activities that other, more productive people, would consider wasteful. Then again, she would have done so as well had it not been for the recent... Predicaments which prevented her daily schedule and plagued her sleep routine. She would have to get a grip sooner or later, or she could risk losing those friends she had just recently gained through troublesome methods.

"I just... Thought I'd buy some shit in town." She explained, making sure to make it sound as convincing as possible. Besides, she wasn't lying. It just didn't include the entire truth word for word. It was better that way, otherwise, things could quickly become problematic. "Then I had the unfortunate encounter with Dipshit himself."

"And we see how that turned out."

"Yeah, pretty good, right?"

When Beverly reappeared from the kitchen and into the living room again, she gestured for Cassie to sit down and let her treat the wound. Without much hesitation, she did as commanded and stayed put on the couch, letting Beverly first dry the blood off with some kind of cleansing chemical which stung her skin like flesh over a flame. Casse forced down a hiss and pinched her finger in doing so. Despite this, she had to admit that Beverly genuinely was very delicate with her hands, much like a nurse or a caretaker. They didn't feel like her mother's rough fingers on her skin but like soft ones made of cotton.

Finally, Beverly drew the stained napkin away and placed not one, but two, band-aids where the wound was located. "There, all done."

"Thanks," Cassie said appreciatively and put her hand on the covered spot on her cheek. "Not bad."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, definitely. Wouldn't surprise me if you became a nurse." She said, sounding proud on her friend's behalf. She knew that studying medicine required a lot of effort and grades, something she herself would undoubtedly fail miserably at, but Beverly seemed at least like the one who could force herself to commit anything as long as she had her mind set to it. It wouldn't exactly surprise her if she met her a decade with a fancy white coat or anything, if their friendship was still intact. Then again, the call wasn't hers to make. It was all just wishful thinking on her account.

Beverly seemed to ponder on the possibilities as she put the kit away to where she had gotten it from, and then she said from the kitchen. "I don't really think that."

Cassie let out a weak laugh. "Why not? If you could patch up someone as hopeless as me, then there has to be a chance, right?"

"I'm more of an artistic type, not one for numbers and calculations," Beverly explained and reentered the room with two cans of soda in her hands. "I like more music and fashion, stuff like that. My..." Her gaze fell to the floor. "Dad likes it when I wear girly clothes and dresses. He doesn't really approve of my tomboyish style."

Understanding fell across Cassie's mind, and she moved further into the couch to give Beverly some space and accepted the can when she was handed it. "Yeah, me too." She said, opening the can and taking a generous sip of it. The bubbly liquid ran down her throat, shielding her temporarily from the thirst which had threatened to surge through her earlier. "My mom and I aren't really on close terms either, but that doesn't give her the authority to tell me what I can and can't do with my future," she glanced to the side to study her red-haired friend, who seemed to have dwelled deep into thoughts. "Neither does your dad."

Beverly noticed her gaze from her peripheral and let a smile creep across her lips. "What about you, then?"

Cassie blinked. "What about me?"

"What do you want to be when you grow older?"

This caused the Hayes girl to indulge in her thoughts as well, scanning down all possible lines of occupation that were even attainable for her length and separated them from those that weren't. Studying medicine and such was out of her reach primarily because she didn't have the tolerance to waste most of her youth buried in books, whereas her interest laid mainly in the surreal aspects of the world. She wasn't a fanatic idealist nor a superstitious fool, but there were those things in the world that she meant were worth exploring. She enjoyed danger and yearned for a tomorrow left uncertain. But what kind of occupation would grant her those opportunities? Seemed like a child's dreaming rather than realistic matters.

"I don't really know," she answered. "All I know that I am on a vehement dislike towards math."

Once again, Beverly found herself laughing at her friend's witty words, as childish as they tended to be. "What do you like?"

"Hmmm..." She pondered. "I like risking my safety,"

"Risking your safety?" Beverly was confused. "How come?"

Cassie scratched the side of her face, avoiding the patched-up spot on her left cheek. "I don't want to live a predictable life. I want to live a life where I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow."

"So, an explorer?" Beverly suggested, to which Cassie shook her head.

"Everything in this world is already explored."

"Not everything can be explored."

"Besides, running off into the hills like some looney isn't going to pay the bills, is it?"

Beverly nodded sadly. "I guess so."

"Exactly, so what I want is unattainable. Perhaps that's one of the things my mom is correct about." It didn't exactly provide her with any pleasure, knowing that her mother was right for once. However, that didn't seem to stop Beverly from letting a sly smirk cross her features as she took a stip from her own can. Cassie didn't find it very assuring. "What?"

"Nothing," She replied innocently, her mouth still close to the cold can. "But didn't you just tell me that parents don't get to choose our futures?"

Cassie frowned. "Yeah, but-"

"Exactly so! So don't be a hypocrite and tell me something you don't believe yourself." Out of the blue, there was a determined look in Beverly's eyes, one which made Cassie somewhat associate her with the kind of parent who was hellbent on teaching their children self-esteem and confidence. Then it hit her straight in the face and she felt her cheeks grow red. Did she just compare Beverly Marsh, who was several months younger than herself, to a parent? As if that wasn't troubling enough for her mentality, Beverly apparently noticed the odd look on her face.

"What's the matter?" She asked, tilting her head curiously to the side.

Instead of speaking truthfully, Cassie looked away from her with an abrupt turn. "N-Nothing..."

"Is there something on my face?"

"No."

"Then what was-"

"Just forget it."

"... Okay."

There lingered an awkward silence in the air for a few minutes. None of the girls said anything but continued to drink from their cans until both were emptied of their content. It was obvious that they were both equally flustered (confused on Beverly's side) about the earlier events. But after some minutes of silence, they both began to laugh at the silliness of what had happened. All bashfulness from earlier vanished completely and was replaced with childlike laughs. It went so far that it put pressure on her bladder, and having just finished a can of soda, that did not sit well with her at all.

"'Scuse me for a second," she stood up from the couch and looked at Beverly. "But where's the bathroom?"

In a matter of mediocre seconds, Beverly got up as well and placed a firm grip on her shoulder. "Don't."

Cassie blinked at her. "Why?"

She noticed that Beverly's skin was noticeably pale, more so than ever, and there were the faintest hints of trembling in her grip. "Just... Wait until the others arrive... Please..."

"... Okay." Was all she could say. Whatever it was that was the source of Beverly's discomfort, it wasn't anything insignificant. It had to be something major, otherwise, she wouldn't have reacted so scared like she was a carcass surrounded by vultures. Cassie emphasized with her situation, regardless of what it involved, and didn't question it any further. She wasn't that needy of emptying her bladder, so they might as well pass the time doing something else instead. Suggesting activities to do with friends was never much of an option unless they involved wrecking havoc all around the place, which she doubted would spark their interest. "Fuck-It-And-Run" had always been a personal favorite of hers during the time she and Nathan would be at their worst. Short explained, it involved them pissing someone off or breaking something from someone else's property and then run like the Devil were breathing on their necks.

"How about we go outside and wait for the others, then?" Cassie suggested, offering her friend a comforting smile. "What do you say?"

This obviously cheered her up to some degree and Beverly nodded eagerly. "Sure."

"Any idea when they will be arriving?" Cassie asked as they stepped out of the apartment and sat down on the stairway.

"Soon, I hope." Was all Beverly replied with before she pulled out a cigarette and lighted it. She drew a deep breath and puffed the smoke out, and Cassie waved with her left hand to keep the smoke from entering her nostrils. She didn't exactly judge Beverly for smoking, Nathan tended to do that on several occasions back in Asheville until he was forced to quit when his mother found out, but that didn't make it any less unbearable to inhale. It reeked of a foul odor that reminded her of death, as melodramatic as it seemed.

Beverly noted her discomfort and pulled the cigarette out of her mouth, looking worriedly at her friend in case the smoke was bothering her. "Is it—"

"It's fine," Cassie assured and waved her hand dismissively at the smoke. "I don't mind, just can't get used to the smell, as all."

"Are you sure? I can—"

"It's fine, Bev."

Both of them fell victim to the silence once again, and Cassie knew that she had been the direct cause for said quietness. A faint blush crept over her cheeks and she covered her mouth with her hand and began to cough, not succeeding at making the subject any less cringe-worthy. "You don't mind if I call you Bev, do you?" She asked without looking, trying to keep her voice as quiet as possible as if it was going to aid her. It didn't. "Seems a little bit easier than full-out Beverly."

At first, Beverly was surprised at the Hayes girl's sudden fluster. She was usually the kind of girl who never let her mind go unnoticed by, either verbally or physically. She always said whatever she wanted and didn't seem to possess any trait of bashfulness or shame like typical girls, like herself. But then Beverly started smiling again, finding the situation quite laughable, but not because it was silly. "We call you Cassie all the time, so why not? Only seems fair that it's mutual, right?"

"... Right." Cassie replied with.

"What's your full name, anyway? I don't remember it." Beverly asked curiously, and Cassie felt her blush rise in temperature for some unfathomable reason.

"... Cassandra." She mumbled barely above the volume of a meek whisper.

Beverly furrowed her eyes. "I didn't get that."

Cassie coughed and cleared her voice, in spite of not wanting to speak any louder than she already did. There was always the ordeal with her full name which always put her in an awkward situation. Made sense. It was an awkward name. She consistently cursed her mother for having given her it the same day she exited her womb. Like said, she must've been drunk. Even Criss agreed on that and she didn't even like the guy.

"It's _Cassandra_!" She answered, turning back around with a tone more audible than she expected she would pronounce it with. Her voice must've been sharp or otherwise threatening because Beverly flinched in her sitting spot. Cassie immediately regretted her outburst and sank back into her seat, groaning at her impulsivity and placing a hand over her head. "Sorry about that."

Surprisingly, Beverly didn't stop smiling. "Cassandra? That's a cool name, I think. Wasn't that like one of the figures in Greek mythology or something?"

 _Damn it!_

"You've heard about that, right?" Cassie asked hopelessly.

Beverly nodded and pulled another smoke. "Yeah, I used to read those storybooks when I was little. My mom bought me a couple as a child, even though my dad always blamed her for stuffing my head with 'bullshit'."

"It's not bullshit if it helps you," Cassie countered and regained her equanimity. She glanced over at Beverly and noticed how her red hair shone in the morning light. There was a spark of flames in her hair, dazzling in the beams of the sun like raindrops at dawn, whereas her own dark hair reminded her of a funeral during autumn. Then, the most idiotic question in all of the world's history sprang out of her lips before she was able to help it.

"Why did you cut it?"

Beverly's smile faded into a thin line, not out of hostility but of concern that her friend didn't truly approve, even though she had stated so when they were at the quarry together.

Cassie wanted to slap herself so much for saying those words that had it not been for Beverly opening her mouth to speak, she would've actually gone through with it.

"I want control of my own life," Beverly explained, pulling a few strands self-consciously behind her ear. Her eyes were filled with emotions yet few came to view. Melancholia? Sadness? Depression? An amalgamation of all? Instead of interrupting her, Cassie stayed put and kept listening to what she had to say. Like a friend would.

"My dad..." Beverly paused and a new emotion fell over her. This one wasn't a difficult one to distinguish from the others. _Fear_. "He controls me most of the time. He wants me to remain his..."

"His what?" Cassie dared to ask, worried about where this was leading onto.

"His little girl," she finished, pulling a few hairs out of her head whilst squinting her eyes together with an indescribable kind of pain. It wasn't a physical one. It was worse. "He doesn't want me to grow up and get a life of my own. He wants to keep me here in Derry with him."

"Don't let him."

"I know."

"If he tells you to, fight back."

Beverly looked over at her friend from the side and was shocked to see her on the verge of literally grinding her teeth together into powder. She had never seen her friend angry, not really, until that very moment when it was at its peak. She hesitated before she spoke up again, more nervous than she expected she would. "What would you do, Cassie?"

It took a couple of moments before she responded, and surprisingly, it was as calmly as she usually did it despite the severity of her face. "I may be selfish, but I know when the line has been crossed. My mother... There was a time where my mother actually displayed affection towards me, but not for the right reasons." She explained, tightening her hands around the brim of the steps they sat on to the point where her knuckles turned white from the pressure. "She tried making me her doll, perfect and pretty, adorn with dresses and glitter and all that crap. I became her little angel."

"Then what?"

"I had enough."

"What did you do?"

"What I always do," she answered, smiling weakly. "I ran away."

"You did?"

"Yup," Cassie leaned back against the steps and faced the sky with a distant countenance as if she was trapped in some kind of temporary trance. "An eight-year-old moronic kid with no money and no way of transport actually managed to sneak out of her mother's radar for a short while. That was until the authorities found me and brought me back home."

"Where did you go?"

"That's the fun part," she laughed. "I don't remember."

"What do you mean you don't remember?"

Cassie scratched the back of her head again. "I don't recall much outside from stepping out of the door. I must've been really tired or something because when I woke up again, I was lying on top of the bridge in the local park and the cops were shining a flashlight at me. They asked me a couple of questions and then returned me home where I was once again faced with Claudia's wrath."

"Claudia?"

"My mom."

"Oh," Beverly thought back at what she had said at the quarry, about not being close to her family. She was sure whatever family Cassie had would be preferable to the kind of family she herself had. Anything would, really.

"But hey, what you do with your life is neither up to me nor to your old man," Cassie said. "Only you can decide whether you want to move forward or remain behind. Nobody can take that from you."

Beverly nodded at the piece of advice and smiled. "Thanks."

Cassie asked dumbfounded and tilted her head at her. "For what?"

"Helping me."

Cassie snorted but smiled as well. "You're making me blush."

There was suddenly a sound of multiple people at the bottom of the apartment complex, signalizing that the rest of them had finally arrived. Quick as anything, Beverly stomped her smoke on the stairs and they both headed down the stairs in less than seconds and were met with the boys and their bikes. They were arguing about some nonsense at first, but that all stopped when they spotted Beverly and Cassie headed down the stairs to them.

Richie's eyes landed on her with surprise. "Cassie, this is where you've been?" He earned himself a few scrutinizing looks from the others, but instead of verifying what he meant, she decided to ignore the awkwardness of the situation.

"Could you guys get any slower?" Cassie asked and crossed her arms over her chest, feigning offense.

"What happened to your face?" Eddie's voice became somewhat loud as his eyes landed on the patches on her face.

She shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"Henry Bowers."

"Bev, you traitor!"

"It's the truth."

"Doesn't mean they have to know it."

They shared somewhat hostile looks at each other, trying too hard to figure out who had the authority to be agitated in the situation before they eventually gave up faltering. The boys could only witness in silence the unspoken feud from start to finish, and none other than Stanly became the first one to speak up.

"So, there was something you said you wanted to show us?"

At the mention of this, both Beverly and Cassie snapped their attention back to the boys.

"Yeah, but my dad would kill me if I had boys in the apartment. Cassie's fine, but the rest of you aren't."

"Pfft," Richie scoffed. "She's barely a girl herself."

 _"Shut up, Richie."_

 _"Shut up, Richie."_

Both Eddie and Cassie shouted at him in unison and he raised both of his arms in a defensive posture. "Whatever."

"W-We'll leave a lookout," Bill took the initiative as they threw their bikes down on the ground (Except Stanley, who let his own stand). "Richie, you stay." It didn't take the others more time than needed to get up the stairs and head for the upper apartment with Beverly. Only Stanley and Cassie stayed a bit behind to witness with bemusement at Richie's reaction to having been given the unwanted task nobody else volunteered to.

"Woah, woah, woah! What if her dad gets back?" He asked and threw his arms up exasperatedly.

"Do what you always do," Stanley said and prepared to follow behind Cassie, who had already begun heading up as well with the others. "Start talking!"

"... It's a gift." Was all he was able to answer before he was left alone, abandoned by his friends.

* * *

When they were all inside of her darkened apartment, Cassie couldn't help but realize how darkened the atmosphere around the place had become as well. For the first time since she arrived there, they headed for the corridor leading to the bathroom. They all noticed how reddened the light shone from beneath the edge of the door.

"What's that?" Stanley asked as they closed up their distance from the ominous-looking door ahead of them. They were all tightened up against each other for comfort, despite that none of them cared to admit it aloud, Cassie the last. She was placed on the right of Bill, and just feeling the presence of someone else close to her became enough to relieve her of a few percentage of the uneasiness which was waving through her.

"You'll see," Beverly answered cautiously, not any less circumspect than the rest of them.

None of them said anything, except for Eddie, who had begun rambling like a frantic lunatic about how unsanitary bathrooms tended to be, adding something about fungi and bacteria. Quite frankly, Cassie couldn't care any less about contamination and such. A trait she did not inherit from her mother's germaphobic personality, much to her relief.

When they finally reached the door, barely breathing and with bodies so stiffened that they could easily pass as mannequins, Bill once again took the initiative to reach for the handle and open it.

Eddie was the first one, expectedly, to look disgusted with what they were met with. "Oh, I knew it."

The bathtub, the toilet, the mirror, the sink, the floor, all of the walls, even the goddamn roof, was covered in nothing but some kind of crimson liquid. At first, Cassie didn't want to just assume it was blood, but upon judging the others by their chosen expressions, she too started feeling sick to the stomach. The vision of her mother's blood soaking the floor of her home still horrified her to the point where she was barely able to look at it for more than a few seconds before she had to make a one-eight to gather her thoughts again.

The others were obviously feeling the same sense of dread but none acted so frantically as Eddie's hit of hypochondriasis did.

"What happened in here?" Stanley asked, raising his voice and keeping himself from making it as low as he initially wanted it to be.

"When my dad didn't see it," Beverly said slowly, eyeing every inch of the blood-covered room with a stiff look on her face. "I thought I might be crazy."

"Then what the fuck does that make us?" Cassie asked and dared take a step into the room. There wasn't anything but the view of it which suggested that the room truly was covered in blood, not even smell. It was as if all of their eyes had been infected with the same disillusioned virus, and if that turned out to be the case, she'd blame Eddie, no doubt.

The others soon joined her inside, Eddie being the last of them and the least motivated to do so. They were all equally disturbed and disgusted by the view, yet none of them really wanted it to stay like that. At least for Beverly's sake. "We c-c-can't leave it like this." Bill's voice was stuttering, but no less determined than any other person.

"What are we gonna do, then?" Cassie had to let out a snort. The situation seemed too unreal to be believable, even from an inch. "We just get some gloves and a bucket and begin to wash this place like a bunch of maids?"

None of the others said anything to verify, but nor did they argue against the idea.

Cassie did the only thing she could do.

She sighed.

"I seriously hate you guys sometimes."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own IT**

 **Blog:** _www . Wood - White - Writer . Tumblr . Com_

* * *

 **Chapter 10: A Rolling Stone gathers no Moss**

* * *

The sight of blood didn't result in the pits of her stomach making its way up her throat like most of the horror movies would suggest, but that didn't mean that it granted her any visible solace either. Then again, it was never natural for a human being to find such views consoling either, unless they were severely disturbed. Henry Bowers would probably have enjoyed watching the show for himself if he was present.

Thank God he wasn't.

Looking back at it, Cassie would never guess in an entire lifetime that she would find an entire room covered in blood like the one she was currently in. The first time she had her period and she thought she was dying, her mother had unexpectedly jumped to the rescue and provided her with a short yet informative piece of information about how to keep track on it through a calendar. This, however, an entire bathroom filled with blood on every corner of her sight, seemed a bit exaggerated.

Beverly washed bathroom mirror, bringing out its reflective surface again, and Eddie had literally concealed himself between thick layers of washing clothes and even sported a mask to shield himself from any possible 'bacterial contamination'. The other boys were less than concerned about getting sick from it, though it was obvious that none of them took any particular delight in washing the blood away. It felt like they had just committed a serious crime and were covering up their tracks.

Grabbing a mop, Cassie began to sweep it across the floor until most of the blood had washed away, and she then renewed the cloth before she swept across the ceiling as well. She didn't look forward to getting any blood on her like yesterday but it didn't mean that she was going to back out solely because of a little bit of red on her. Her clothes were expendable, and it wasn't like getting a drop on her would mean the end. However, her mother would surely notice it unless she made sure to change them before she returned home.

The cleaning supplies Beverly had weren't little in amount, so there was no need to share it in-between each of the others. However, there were only two buckets in total, so they would have to share them conservatively. Cassie shared hers with Beverly and Bill whilst Eddie, Stan, and Ben shared theirs. It took some time, but eventually, they were able to get most of the blood away. At least the bathroom didn't look like a place where nightmares were made anymore.

"So, Beverly," Cassie asked without looking away from the ceiling as she struggled to get the last of it in the furthest corner by the bathtub. She had to stand on top of the edge of the tub to be able to reach it all, and trying not to slip became a challenge. "What really happened here? Where does this blood come from?"

"It came from the sink," Beverly answered, not looking away from the bathtub she was currently washing with Bill by her side. "I... Thought I heard someone in the sink, and then it just all flowed out. I don't know what it was."

"I'd be surprised if you were," Cassie replied earnestly and finally pulled the mop back down again, grabbing the cloth and throwing it into the bucket next to Eddie. The reddened water splashed and few drops landed on the hypochondriac, causing him to start screaming like he was having a seizure. He threw his gloves off and practically sprinted out of the room, not stopping anytime soon.

Everything in the room fell silent and everyone had stopped washing and turned their faces to the door leading to the corridor where Eddie had run off to. Then they turned to Cassie, who couldn't help but to mouth a silent yet visible ' _oops'._

"I think you should go calm him down?" Stanley suggested as he emptied the bucket in the bathtub, letting the crimson water stream out.

Cassie pointed at herself with disbelief. "Me?"

"Well, you caused his outburst, right?"

"It wasn't intentional."

"What you mean doesn't even matter half as much as your actions do."

"Touchè, Uris, I'm crying my eyes out."

Stanley sighed and drew his gloves off his hands. "Let's go and find that poor guy."

Cassie felt tempted to let out a loud sigh, but rather than complaining like a child throwing a tantrum, she bit into her own consequences and followed after Stanley as they headed down the corridor in search of their hypochondriac, germaphobic friend. It didn't take them far to locate him, and the fact that he hadn't even left the living room may have contributed to that.

The poor boy was pacing back and forth in the living room between the main entrance and to the hall leading to the kitchen, muttering incoherent words to himself whilst taking multiple pills at a time, too much to be considered a healthy amount. The way he was acting made her feel uneasy and also slight guilty for having brought him to that stage herself. She had to bring him back from there or else she would be plagued with self-loathing for the rest of the day.

"Hey, Eddie," She tried calmly, reaching for him, but he slapped her hand away and threw both of his arms down frantically.

"Why did you do that? Do you know how much bacteria that could be in that?" He asked her, a mix of agony and anger in his voice. He took deep and unsteady breaths like he was having a panic attack. "That's so disgusting!"

"Calm down, Eddie. It was just a few drops." Stanley attempted to reason, looking just as confused at the moment as Cassie did. He had always known that his best friend tended to exaggerate because of his fear for illnesses and that, but he had never thought he would go over the edge just for a couple of drops of that red water they had washed away. He turned to look at Cassie from the side but spotted no visible signs of expression on her face. She was surprisingly apathetic, physically said. Was she thinking about something?

"Eddie," she said, not raising her tone to stand equal to his own. "Why are you so afraid of getting ill? What sorts of illnesses do you have?"

"I have- I have severe asthma-attacks, and- and I'm allergic to grass... and-"

"Let me look at those pills, please." She reached her hand forth, gesturing for the bottle of pills in Eddie's grip.

"Why do you need them?" He asked cautiously, not giving off the impression that he was going to oblige to her request.

She didn't lower her hand. "Can I just see them? Please?"

Even Stanley was becoming curious about what she was intending on doing with the pills, and so was Eddie. Seeing her with such a stern look on her face did something eerie to him that he was unable to explain with the exploitation of words. Needless, in the end, the hypochondriac reluctantly gave in to her silent demand and handed her one of the bottles he was carrying in his hands.

When she got them, Cassie eyed each of the labels with skepticism and distrust, feeling a hint of recognition surge through her at the look of them. She opened the bottle and pulled a few pills out of them before studying them sharply, like a doctor doing an inspection on a patient with a severely unnoticeable disease. Neither Stanley nor Eddie said anything, but both were looking at her with a wide range of bewilderment and uneasiness.

Stanley didn't really take the Hayes girl for someone who was easily intrigued with something unless it acted out of the law, her delinquent-like behavior didn't do much to contribute her with arguments against that statement. He hadn't known her long enough to be able to distinguish her methods for thinking, and neither of them was really the rest of them. She was their friend, of sorts, but that didn't make her any less prone to suspicion from them if the situation called for it.

Eddie, on the other hand, appeared to become somewhat uneasy about what Cassie was scheming with. Like most other times, her expressions often revealed her intentions. A predictable mood if she allowed them to get a hold of her facial features. However, on this occasion, her face didn't reveal anything for them. She was blank of all possible emotions, but there was the faintest hint of cynicism painted in her eyes.

Then finally, Cassie threw the bottle back to Eddie and he caught it, less ceremoniously than he thought he would and almost lost it once. "Sorry about what I did," she apologized, sincerely sincere this time. "I'll be more careful next time."

Surprisingly, all earlier feelings of hostility against her faded away and Eddie nodded. "It-It's fine. Don't worry about it. Sorry I overreacted."

She smiled and placed a hand on her hips. "Then I guess we're even."

He smiled as well and put the bottles back into his waist-bag. "Guess so."

"I guess we're done here soon, so why don't you two go back with Richie and keep him company?" She suggested. "I imagine that he's quite sour now from all the waiting."

Stanley and Eddie exchanged a couple of glances before they nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we'll go. Just tell the others to hurry up in there," Stanley said as he walked over to the door and opened it, gesturing for Eddie to step out before himself. "I can't handle Richie's constant yapping all the time."

She furrowed her eyebrows in disbelief. "I thought you guys had been friends for longer than the others?"

He shrugged as Eddie passed him by. "We learn and we live." And they were both gone after that, shutting the door quietly behind them.

Cassie took this as her cue and turned to return back to the corridor leading to the bathroom, but upon reaching it, she spotted Ben standing there with his back to her. At first, she didn't understand what it was he was looking so fixated at, but then she noticed Beverly and Bill alone in the bathroom by the bathtub, laughing with each other in a way which could easily make other people perceive it as romantic bonding.

She didn't believe it at first, primarily because she had been friends with Nathan back in Asheville for so long and they always used to laugh like that whenever they were together. Sure, other people tended to spread rumors to satisfy their yearning for entertainment and there were on more than a few occasions that someone had stopped her in the middle of the hallways and demanded why she kept hanging around their 'crush' like he was already claimed by them. It was obnoxious, but she didn't really suspect that there was necessarily happening something between Beverly and Bill.

But upon looking back at Ben and noticing his physiognomy of disappointment and visible heartbreak, she knew that his situation wasn't like her own. He thought, and he _knew_.

She stood behind him and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and let her eyes stay glued to the people in the bathroom. "It doesn't mean there's no chance for you, you know?"

Oblivious to her presence at first, Ben flinched in his spot and quickly turned around to face whoever had spoken. He calmed down upon seeing only Cassie standing there, but that didn't ease the ache he felt plaguing him from the inside. Ben turned back to the bathroom and let out a deep breath. "He's got more chance on her than I do," he explained despondently. "And she likes him too, so it's a perfect match, right?"

"Well, you're not getting anywhere with that attitude, Ben," she replied earnestly and made sure not to lower her voice so that he could hear how clear and how honest she was being. Luckily, neither of the others in the bathroom seemed to hear them as they continued to converse about an unfathomable subject. Something about a poem, at least, but she wasn't able to hear much else.

"Do you have someone you like?" Ben suddenly asked, not looking away from the sight his eyes were currently glued on. "Someone you liked, but the feelings weren't reciprocated?"

Yes, there was the question she had unknowingly anticipated for him to ask. Cassie took a deep breath and dwelled into her thoughts as the subject hit her. She didn't overreact or fluster about it, she didn't have the strength to do so. There was once back in Asheville a classmate that she had gained an interest in. It wasn't at first sight, she didn't believe in such nonsense, but through the occasional conversations they would share whenever they worked together on a project, she had inadvertently gained a crush on him.

His name was Frederick Carter, and he was quite popular in their class. He was good at sports, good-looking, and intelligent. It seemed a bit expected that she would fall for someone so popular, but the trait she had been attracted to was his kindness foremost. His kindness had been the quality about him which intrigued her. He wasn't a bully, he treated everyone the same, and didn't discriminate anyone. For a foolish moment, she would imagine that he reciprocated her feelings.

He didn't.

Since him, all of the other situations had been trivial and bothersome. She had gained crushes, but none so severe, and none which were ever confessed.

"Yeah, I have," she answered Ben and smiled weakly.

"Have anyone ever had a crush on you?" He asked, still not looking at her.

"That too."

"What did you do?"

"I didn't return their feelings. I didn't know them." She chuckled and unraveled her arms. "There's this silly cycle I seem to be stuck in. Whenever I like someone, they don't like me in return. Whenever someone likes me, I don't like them. My reputation for being a delinquent doesn't really add to my advantages either."

"Nobody's ever liked me in a way like Beverly likes Bill," Ben explained, sounding a little less depressive when talking about himself than of his crush on Beverly.

"They don't have to," Cassie replied with and Ben finally turned around to look at her, bewilderment written over him like a tattoo on his skin.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "Think about it this way. Would you rather have an unpredictable relationship with her, or would you like her to stay in a true friendship where both of your happiness is secured?"

"... The friendship." Ben answered resolved, but meekly. "As long as she doesn't think I'm awkward."

"Like I told you, Ben, Beverly isn't the person to judge or ditch. She's cool." She said with confidence. "Then again, what do I know? Do yourself a favor and don't rely on me for relationship advice. I'm a dead end."

A smile spread across his lips and he looked at the floor without thinning it away. "You know," he began. "You're very wise."

"Oh, the horror." Cassie shook her head. "But I can tell you one thing I know for sure."

He looked up again and she placed a firm yet compromising hand on his shoulder. Compared to her, Ben was short, but he was still able to reach her neck at his tallest. She looked into his eyes with a stern look that was able to crush rocks beneath it, but it was accompanied with the same kind of a look a sister would give her younger sibling.

"Even if you confess and she rejects you,"

He felt his chest tighten at the mention of everything that could go wrong. The scene his mind produced wasn't pleasant, but it vanished as she finished her sentence.

"She won't leave you."

... That wasn't what he expected. Ben had imagined that she would tell him to just get over it and move on, or that Beverly wasn't worth it (which she was), but those words or reassurance proved him wrong. Very wrong.

"But she'll think I'm akw—"

"No, she won't." Her grip on his shoulder tightened to the point where it began hurting, but he didn't say anything. "Listen to me, Ben, like I said earlier. I may be a bitch, but I'm not a lying bitch. I'm not gonna tell you a lie just to feel better about myself. I tell you the full truth when I say that Beverly isn't the person to leave someone for something so insignificant. She will remain your friend, or something else, I don't know. But she won't leave you. You understand?"

The Hanscom boy said nothing at first. There wasn't a word in his mind that left him able to open his mouth to reply. There was a seriousness he wasn't able to comprehend lingering in all of her as far as his eyes could reach; her expressions, her stance, her firm yet benevolent stare. There wasn't a single trace of anything even signifying falsehood. The Hayes girl could be harsh sometimes, even cruel to some degree, but she had never been wrong about anything she had told him, nor had she allowed anything to hurt either himself or the others. As far as he knew, she was as honest as anyone could be. That alone brought him a sense of reassurance no lie in the entire world could bring down.

Instead of saying anything, all he could do was to nod. Nothing but a single one.

Cassie let out a relieved breath and took her hand off his shoulder. Her expression softened and she patted him on the back before turning around to grab one of the bags of the cleansing products they had used in the bathroom. "Come on, let's go to the others before Richie starts whining like a little bitch. I'm not cruel enough to expose either Eddie or Stan to the horror of _that_." And just like that, she exited the apartment and left him with the troublesome and awkward task of telling Beverly and Bill that they were about to leave.

* * *

They all left the apartment complex and headed down the streets towards a place they knew that they could find solitude. They hadn't acquired a specific destination, but anywhere from Beverly's apartment would suffice. Cassie was walking alongside Stanley, and whereas the others had bikes to accommodate them like loyal subordinates, she didn't have one and thus they were forced to walk her pace. She had told them that they didn't have to, but being the stupidly kind friends that they were, they decided to go along with it anyway and save her from having to run after them like a dog on a leash.

Stanley glanced her way and decided to ask a question that had been on his mind ever since he and Eddie first left the apartment before the others joined as well. "Was there something about the medicine?"

She looked at him oddly and tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Eddie's medicine." He replied, making sure to keep his tone low so that his hypochondriac friend couldn't listen to their conversation. He knew how Eddie could become easily agitated if anyone ever got involved with his medicine, especially since it was his mother that was the cause of the anxiety he frequently experienced because of it.

Realization hit her and Cassie raised her head again to walk like a straight line. "I don't recognize the brand, but I know bullshit pills like those when I see them."

"Bullshit?" He asked confused, falling off tracks for a split second there. "What do you mean?"

"There was a period where my mother too exploited pills like that on me, telling me that they would make me better, smarter, even thinner. I was eight years old." She turned back to him again, and the look in her eyes actually caused him to feel some sort of physical discomfort. However, he knew that the concealed anger wasn't because of him. "Those pills were placebos. Bullshit."

"How do you know?"

"It's been a while, but by reading the description on the back of it, I was easily able to detect them. Not to mention that the most frequent treatment method for asthma-attacks is usually inhalers, not some weird-ass name that the local pharmacies I've been to have."

"Why don't you tell him that, then?" He gestured to Eddie, who was currently ahead of them next to Bill.

She shrugged. "It's not something I should get involved with," was her reply. "It's his medication, his choice to take them, then I'll let him. Whatever I say shouldn't be perceived as gospel."

Stanley couldn't believe his ears. "But you said that they were bullshit."

Again, she shrugged. "I help you if I can, but not if it interferes with your personal lives. That's where my line draws."

"So, you'll just let him take them like that?"

She cast him a sharp look. " _You_ tell him then and suffer the wrath of his parents. I have enough problems at home."

"And you're just going to keep lying to him?"

"I'm not _lying_ , Stanley,"

"But you're not telling the truth, either." He countered, almost risking earning himself the attention of the others unless he regained control of himself. "That doesn't make you any less of a liar."

Cassie paused in her steps as he had said that, neither moving nor saying anything. Stanley stopped for a couple of seconds as well to look at her, feeling a bit guilty about what he had just called her, but before he was able to apologize she quickened up her pace and passed him without as much as a second look. "Call me what you want then if that satisfies you," was all she said before she took her place next to Beverly. Stanley stood there for a little longer, unable to comprehend anything that crossed his mind before he was forced to join the rest of them when Richie suddenly started cycling around them.

"No, I love being your personal doorman, really," Richie took the opportunity to circle around them all whilst complaining about having been given the quest of looking out for Beverly's father earlier. Whereas the others were already fully accustomed to his frequent obnoxious behavior about what he liked and didn't like, Cassie was less than pleased about having to endure his whining and felt tempted to roll her eyes. "Could you idiots have taken any longer?" He said whilst continuously circling around them like a vulture surrounding prey, though he was less of a predator than anything else in the world. Intimidating did not fit as one of most noticeable characteristics.

"Shut up, Richie," Eddie said indifferently.

"Yeah, shut up." Stanley accommodated, trying to ease his mind off what had just happened.

"Oh, okay, trash the trash mouth. I get it." Richie shouted back. "Hey, I wasn't the one scrubbing the bathroom floor and imagining that her sink went all Eddie's mom's vagina on Halloween."

Cassie was about to open her mouth and shout some kind of snide reply at him, having had enough with Richie's childish behavior, until Bill suddenly stopped in his tracks out of the sudden. The rest of them followed the same pattern little by little until eventually, they all stopped walking.

"She wasn't imagining it," he said, looking quite hesitant about what he was about to say. The Denbrough boy debated with keeping his mouth shut, but since everyone had already by then turned to look at him, he decided that he would go through with it either way. The images of Georgie all rotten and that... _Thing_ still caused him to feel beyond uneasy to the point where his stomach churned, but it would be easier just to get it over with and pretend like he was crazy like Beverly thought she was.

"I _sssaw_ something too." His faze faltered to the ground.

"You saw blood too?" Stanley asked.

"N-Not blood," he replied. What he was about to say next visibly ached his chest to the point of an invisible pain only he could feel inside of him. "I saw G-G-Georgie. I mean it seemed s-so real. I mean, it seemed like him, but there was this..."

"The Clown." Eddie finished, and by then, all of their eyes were glued to the thin boy with both bewilderment and fearful recognition. His eyes scanned across each of them with this uncomfortableness, but he didn't have the strength to deny the fact that his best friend was right. "Yeah, I saw him too."

The Denbrough boy was visibly in doubt at first, thinking that his friends were initially pulling a joke on him, but upon seeing each of their expressions one by one: the indescribable look on Beverly's face which indicated little but angst, the short yet visible nod from Ben, the insignificantly shaking from Stanley, who was looking back at Bill as if searching for a unison answer, and the reluctance to do anything but look on the ground from Cassie. It confirmed that it was no prank, no foolishness in the situation any longer. They were all somehow affected by what had happened, the same thing which had terrorized them probably the same way _It_ had terrorized him. He didn't need their verification to know it was all genuine.

"Wait, can only virgins see this stuff?" Richie suddenly spoke up, not looking anywhere near as fearful as the rest of them were. In fact, had Bill not known him any better, he would almost have believed that his friend wasn't believing them, but he knew better. This was Richie's way of coping with dire stuff like that, as unbelievable as it seemed. "Is that why I'm not seeing this shit?"

"Richie, let's be real here," Cassie replied slowly, putting a hand over her head as if to shield her eyes from something. "If only virgins could see this stuff, you'd be a fucking Oracle by now."

"What? So you're saying that you saw this shit too?" He asked, raising his arms to the same level of his shoulders.

The Hayes girl said nothing at first, but then she replied, just loud enough for them to hear it. "Why'd you think I went to you yesterday?"

"Wait, what do you mean you went to Richie's?" Eddie asked, but she didn't get the chance to reply before the echoing sounds of shouting and screaming in the distance caught their attention. They all spotted the sight of an infamously familiar car parked by the path leading down to the river and right next to it was a bicycle on the ground. Cassie was able to recognize both of them in an instant, especially the wrecked windshield of the car which belonged to none other than the Bowers' gang. The bike, on the other hand, belonged to the Hanlon boy she encountered earlier that day.

"Shit, that's Belch Huggins' car," Eddie acknowledged it far sooner than the rest of them did. "We should- We should probably get out of here."

"Wait. Isn't that the homeschooled kid's bike?" Bill asked and pointed at the laid-down bicycle.

"Yeah, that's Mike's," Eddie answered, seemingly recognizing the Hanlon boy from somewhere.

All of them switched from looking to the bike and to the car, and none of them guessed that anything good was happening.

"We have to help him," Beverly took the initiative of making her plan audible to the others. Her face was painted with determination and fearlessness, something which Cassie didn't let go unnoticed by. Though she had already helped the rest of them on multiple occasions, she wasn't feeling very motivated with pulling herself into yet another situation with the Bowers gang. The scar on her cheek was still present, and needless to say, she didn't really want to risk another episode.

"We should?" Asked Richie, reluctance not making itself very subtle as he spoke.

"Yes," was all Beverly replied with to him before she threw her bike down on the ground and went sprinting towards the forest. In a matter of seconds, the rest of them threw their own bikes down on as well and followed after her. Cassie found herself cursing at herself before she soon followed after them, but not before stopping by the car and looking into the driver's seat. The key was still intact, and the doors proved themselves to be open.

She grinned mischievously.

* * *

Michael Hanlon was no stranger towards harassment due to the color of his skin, even more so by the Bowers gang than he ever thought was possible in such a small town like Derry. His objective had been given shortly by his grandfather, and that was to make one final delivery to the butcher that afternoon, just like he had done earlier in the morning the very same day.

His delivery had been abruptly cut, however, when he became unfortunate enough to encounter the Bowers gang one more time. He had tried to get away from them on his bike alone, but being chased at full speed by a car proved itself to become the ultimate challenge he would fail miserably at. His final attempt at getting away was just as much as a failure as his earlier attempts had been, and it didn't take long before they got to him by the river and stomped his head down into the meat he was supposed to deliver to the butcher.

 _"There are two places you can be in this world. You can be out here like us, or you can be in there like them. You waste time, and someone's gonna make that choice for you, except you won't know that before you got that bolt between your eyes."_

Maybe his grandfather had been right all along, that he was nothing but a doomed sheep intended for slaughter in the end. Henry Bowers and his goons proved just that, kicking him down and forcing his face into the meat whilst telling him to eat it. His thirteen-year-old-self wasn't strong enough to withstand them nearly as close enough as he should've, and he regretted not getting stronger when he had the chance.

 _"Eat it! Eat it!"_

 _"Motherfucker!"_

 _"Come on! Eat it!"_

Their voices continued to enter his ears, no pauses were granted. They, however, faded into oblivion when his face raised itself just barely above the meat on the ground, and his dark eyes landed on the figure hiding in the weeds across the river. All blood discarded his face and he felt a chill run up and down his skin. It was the same clown, the one he had seen just days earlier, chewing a hand with blood smeared across his face like frosting on a cake.

The clown seemed to cackle in the distance at him and lightheartedly stopped eating and waved at him with the severed arm in his grip. That was all it took for Mike to try his best to get up and away from there until Belch kicked him in the face and forced him back again in nearly the same position as before. Pain surged through him more than it already did, but that pain was replaced with fear for his life when Henry Bowers himself got on top of him with a contemptuous and dangerous glare in his face.

Mike tried to get himself out of there, struggling beneath the older boy's weight. When Henry grabbed a stone right next to him and prepared to beat him down, Mike thought he was done for sure, if not worse. Then, out of the blue, another stone hit the older boy's head and forced him off of Mike. Without wasting the opportunity which was granted to him, he looked up and watched as a group of kids his age, five boys and two girls, appeared. The red-haired girl had been the one to save his skin, and he couldn't feel more comforted by that than he did that moment.

He quickly got up and practically crawled across the river, not caring about how soaked he got. All strength had abandoned his body earlier, but the knowledge that he was not alone anymore became just enough to provide him with the motivation to get over there towards his saviors. When he finally reached the other side, panting and almost emptied of breath, a hand was outstretched towards him and he looked up to see the same girl he had crashed into with his bike earlier in the morning.

Her dark eyes loomed over him with a threatening aura lingering from her presence, but not nearly as intimidating as that belonging to Henry Bowers. His eyes stayed on her palm for a second, but it changed from that to the face of the girl again. There was a patched area on the side of her right eyebrow, and he recognized it as the one she had received when they crashed into each other earlier.

He was still a bit uncertain about her direct loyalty. She appeared to be on the same side as those who had helped him dodge getting a proper beating from Bowers, but at the same time, he couldn't help but notice how she didn't seem as motivated as the rest of them. Was she racially judgemental? In which case, why did she help him at all?

"What?" Her voice snapped him back to reality again. "You planning on taking a nap down there?" She asked sarcastically, giving him an unimpressed look. Though her tone was not at all like those comforting ones, he didn't take her hand for granted it and grabbed it, letting himself get pulled up by her.

"Thanks," he said, but she only gave a short nod before her glare returned to the Bowers gang.

"You losers are trying to hard," Bowers said from across the river, taking a few arrogant-filled steps forward while Belch and Vic stayed behind, laughing at them. "She'll do you." He tilted his head towards Beverly. "All you gotta do is ask nicely. Like I did." He grabbed his crotch and moved it in suggestive manners. Both Vic and Belch laughed along with him, but not with as much enthusiasm as they usually would.

Ben, already by then, knew he had had enough and quickly let out an ear-piercing battle-cry and picked up one of the rocks from the ground, aiming for Bowers' head. He wouldn't let the bully hurt him, his friends, or his love, any further. That included both physically and verbally. Slangs were by no means excluded from the category. He raised his arm above his head and prepared to throw it, but before he could, a firm hand placed itself on his shoulder.

Cassie had put a hand on his shoulder and prevented him from doing anything impulsive, though it would be considered lying if she said that the temptation to injure more than just their skin was quick to overtake her better judgment for a second. He looked up at her with disbelief at first, questioning why she wasn't letting him do it, but when he saw her stern eyes, he understood what she meant and lowered his shoulders. The grip on the stone he had grasped didn't falter for even a moment.

"Don't do anything rash," she whispered, pulling her hand off of him. "The last thing we are in need of is more trouble. Let's just leave."

"Looking good there, Hayes!" Bowers shouted from across the river, sneering at her with a mocking delight. "Maybe with that look on your face now, someone will actually bother to try and fuck you?" His companions laughed along with him, Belch because he didn't want his leader to think that he wasn't supporting his point of view, but Vic was rather quiet and avoided looking at her. He wasn't without fault in what had happened to her, but he didn't think it was any less disturbing to think about how far Henry had fallen. What happened to both Ben was the beginning, but what he did to Cassie was pure sadism. Not even he himself thought such cruelty was necessary, at least not to such a degree.

"Piss of, Bowers," The Hayes girl's tone didn't get any louder, nor did her glower change, but there was no mistake that what Henry had said somehow hit her on a point where it was efficient. "Use your expendable brain for once and understand when you're beaten. There's eight of us and three of you," she eyed each of them individually with an equally silent and deadly glare, though it seemed to linger on Vic for longer than it did with the others, even Henry himself. What Vic witnessed, however, was neither anger nor hate from that look. It was a stare he had witnessed his own mother give him plentiful of times whenever he returned home accompanied by a police officer.

 _Disappointment_.

He didn't know why, but it seemed to have impacted him more than he should've let it.

Henry, however, didn't falter beneath her glare. "Or else? What are you gonna do? Go home to mommy and cry?"

"I mean it," she countered, not raising her tone at all. " _Leave_."

"You know, Hayes, it's surprising to see someone like you with some losers like them."

"What's that supposed to mean, _dipshit_?!" To everyone's surprise, Henry included, the Tozier boy stepped forward and positioned himself in front of the Hayes girl. Even she looked confused at what he was doing, but he stood his ground without indicating that he was going to leave.

It didn't take long before the sneer reappeared on Henry's face. "Didn't think you had a thing for trash mouths, Hayes."

"I don't." She glowered down at Richie and silently mouthed for him to 'stay out of it', but he ignored her and took yet another step forward towards the edge of the river. There was a large stone in his grip, one that was nearly too big for his right hand to hold, but it was held tightly.

"Richie!" She hissed and grabbed him by the back of his shirt before he could walk any further, but he shook her off him without much effort.

"Speak up, Bowers!" He shouted and glared over the river to the bully. "What do you mean by someone like her?"

Henry was clearly amused by this sudden act of courage and anger, but no less surprised than the rest of them. It wasn't uncommon for someone like Richie Tozier to be all talk and no fight, but it actually seemed like he was finally beginning to pick up on the rest of them. Richie could feel the anger inside him start boiling like a canteen over a fire. He was done with Bowers making fun of his friends, and he wouldn't let him do it anymore. He wouldn't.

But before he could take another step forward and just as Henry opened his mouth to answer, Richie felt something grasp the back of his shirt again, twice as hard as before, and he was soon pulled back and slammed into the ground next to the home-schooled kid. His back crashed against the ground and his breath was knocked out of him from the impact, but what surprised him the most wasn't that he was thrown back, but it was the look on Cassie's face when she towered over him where she stood.

He coughed a couple of times before he got up. He glared at her for interfering, but she didn't move away and let him pass. "What the hell is your problem?" He hissed back at her, actually feeling tempted to throw the rock at her instead of Bowers.

Cassie stayed firmly in place. "Don't be stupid like that again," was all she said, her eyes were penetrating through his own with a look that could kill if she wanted to. She was in no mood to argue and it didn't take a prodigious genius to figure that out by the demeanor on her. Rather than fighting against her like he first wanted to, Richie chose to stay put with the others, but like Ben, he didn't let go of the stone in his hands either.

"Got yourself a boyfriend, Hayes?"

Though it was intended to mock her, Cassie wouldn't let it get to her. What he was telling her didn't affect her to the point where she let it get to her, because she knew he was just fucking with her. Bowers was petty like that. Instead, she chose to turn the tables back at him and make it laughable. "So what if I have?" Then, she proceeded to grab Richie by his shoulder and pull him into a side hug, her left arm was hanging over his shoulder whereas her cheek was firmly pressed against Richie's.

The latter was visibly caught off-guard by this sudden impulsive act and didn't know how to respond, but Cassie kept the confident smirk plastered on her face like she always did. The rest of the 'losers', however, were staring at them with a mixture of both bewilderment and confusion, as was Bowers and his friends. Cassie was feeling quite proud of her achievement. "That's more than you'll ever get." She said, grinning slyly towards him. Richie, however, was internally freaking out. This was the closest proximity any girl had ever been at with him, except his mom. Even that was too much.

"Didn't know you had a thing for losers."

"Try looking in the mirror for a change, Bowers," she replied wittily, pulling her free arm forth and gave him the middle finger. "As far as I can tell, you're the biggest loser around this place."

She was becoming cocky, they all knew that. The Hayes girl did have her moments where she was actually quite imaginative with her sarcastic demeanor, but there were the occasions where it went too far. She knew it as well, but she showed no signs of quitting anytime soon. It didn't matter to her like it did to everyone else, but it should've. At least, that became the one thing she regretted as she felt a sharp sting on her forehead out of nowhere and knocked her back onto the ground.

Richie fell with her but was lucky enough to get up before he too hit the ground. The rest of them were quick to come to her aid and try to see if she was seriously hurt, but judging by the small line of blood from the left side of her forehead, it was obvious that Henry had not been less than strong when he threw it. Cassie pulled herself to her knees with her hands and felt her head spin around like she had stuck on a carousel for far too long.

Placing a hand on her forehead, she drew it across her skin until she felt the Warm substance on her fingers. As she drew it back and got a view of the blood on the tip of her fingers, it was obvious that she was pissed. It had been less than a day, and she had already three new wounds on her face. One from crashing into Mike earlier, the second one from Henry himself, and now another one from said asshole.

Bill got to her side and grabbed her arm, prepared to pull her up, but gave him a reassuring look and pulled herself up from the floor without his help. She wasn't weak enough to need the aid of others to get to her feet, but that didn't make her any less infuriated. "That does it." She whispered to herself, but they all heard it. She brushed off her clothes and bent down to grab one large-ass rock from the ground.

Henry had less than a second to think before the same stone went flying in his direction, successfully hitting him in the same spot on his forehead where he had hit Cassie. He almost fell back and would've had not Vic and Belch supported him in the nick of time.

"That's for Beverly and the home-schooled kid," she mumbled darkly and grabbed another one from the ground, one which was smaller in size but not intentionally.

"I thought you said not to do anything rash," Ben said as he and the rest of them started to prepare themselves for a very, shocked, very _angered_ , Henry Bowers.

"I changed my mind." Was all she said, and as quick as that, the rest of the Bowers gang started to prepare themselves for the upcoming battle. It was now finally time for the 'losers' to take revenge on the Bowers gang for everything and everyone who had ever suffered beneath their weight, even if throwing rocks didn't appear to be the most mature way to do it. They didn't care.

This meant war.

" _ROCK WAR_!" Richie let out a battle cry, but in an instant, a rock hit him in the head and knocked him backward in similar manners like earlier.

And just like that, a full-fledged battle broke out between the opposing groups. Henry Bowers and his said friends against the Losers. It was hard to throw and dodge at the same time, but they somehow managed and there rained rocks everywhere on either side.

Richie quickly got on his feet with the home-schooled kid and they both joined in on the fight without wasting too much time. In spite of his size, Richie was surprisingly flexible in his arms and was easily able to hit both Vic and Henry without missing too many times.

Cassie felt foolish for having started the fight in the first place because of her inability to handle an injury like a proper adult, but at the same time, being finally able to take her anger out on Bowers proved itself to be relieving. It had unknowingly been something she had been yearning for since she last encountered them on the Fine Diner.

Not to state that the Losers were the winning team, even though they were successfully able to hit the Bowers gang more than a few times, they too suffered from some hits and were sure not to make it out if there without a couple of bruises. Each of them with their own.

It was worth it.

"Piece of SHIT!" Cassie shouted vengefully and grabbed one rather large stone from beneath her, tightened the grip on it, then threw it straight towards Henry again. Judging by how quick he moved around, like a frantic monkey in a circus, she thought it was about to miss the place where the sun never shone for the boy. Surprisingly enough, on cue, he unconsciously moved directly to the right spot.

As soon as it hit him where it was intended, the Bowers pissant's face churned to a satisfying expression and he fell a couple of feet back, holding his crotch in pain and agony. That was a moment she never wanted to forget. "How's that for ' _asking nice_ '?" She shouted at him and prepared to throw another rock, this time at Vic, who was too occupied with aiming for Richie beside her to even notice.

Eddie suddenly jumped forward into the water and started screaming as he consistently threw rocks at Belch. Though the sight of how amused he looked like screaming like a barbarian, she resumed with her intended target and was just about to throw.

A shit-load of rocks from Ben, Mike, Bill and Stanley's simultaneously hit Henry where he had been standing and the bully fell to his ass on the ground and shielded his face as well as he could with his arms. The image was similar to a child sulking in the corner of his bedroom. Truly gratifying to watch.

A couple of rocks from Belch hit her in the stomach and her legs, successfully providing her with pain and inevitable bruises, but nothing which she would allow to keep her down. When she looked up again and prepared to throw at Vic, she watched as he was already on his way of running out of there like the coward he was.

Beverly threw the last couple of rocks on Belch and the fatass took the same cue as his blonde friend and made his way out of there, not even looking back at Henry before they scrambled out of there.

All that remained was a very pride-wounded, very pathetic-looking, Henry Bowers. He seemed to shock to even move.

Cassie growled and prepared to stomp over towards him, a rock held firmly in her hand. It was never for her sake that she had initiated the rock fight in the first place, nor did it bring her any personal pleasure to know that they had been successful in defeating the Bowers gang and proven their strength. As difficult as it seemed to admit it aloud, it was because of her friends that she had thrown the first rock at them. Bowers had put them through more than she had witnessed for herself, and the mark on her cheek didn't even matter. Nothing which had occurred to her mattered. What he had suffered now wasn't close to enough.

But just as Cassie's feet had reached the brim of the waters, Beverly knew her intentions and quickly raced over to her friend. "Cassie, don't!" she wrapped her arms around her from behind and just barely managed to keep her from continuing, but Cassie didn't want to stop.

"Let go of me," she replied coldly and tried to force Beverly off of her, but she was surprised to discover how strong she truly was.

The Marsh girl still didn't let go. "He's had enough. It's over. Let's just go."

"No," The Hayes girl shook her head and tried to pry her arms off her. "He deserves more than this. After what he's done to you guys, I'll make sure he gets it."

"He _will_ ," Beverly countered, pulling her a step back from the water. "But that's not for us to do. He's already finished. You're no better than him if you do this."

It took a couple of seconds, but the Marsh girl's words sunk into her. Cassie slowly realized that she was right. Beating Henry when he was already at his lowest wouldn't undo everything he had done to them, even if it would grant her just the tiniest amount of satisfaction, it wasn't worth it.

The rock dropped from her grip and she shook Beverly off her, casting a last glare Henry's way before she turned around and followed the others out of there.

One thing was for sure, though. Had Beverly not stopped her, Cassie would've possibly ended him.

One after another, everyone left until only Richie remained. Deciding not to waste the opportunity, he turned to look at Henry and shouted as loud as he could. "Go blow your dad, you mulled-wearing asshole!" He proceeded to give him both fingers up before he left to join the rest of his friends.

* * *

"Thanks, guys, but you shouldn't have done that." Mike said as they walked through the meadow below the train rails. The echoes of the passing carts caused the weeds to bend in the same direction as the wind. Though he was grateful for having been saved by his new-found friends and all, he feared for their safety now more than his own. A quality of protectiveness he had inherited from his mother. "They'll be after you guys too now."

Needless to say, his warning didn't do much to impress them. "Oh, Bowers? He's always after us." Eddie assured him and looked back at the home-schooled kid with a friendly face.

"I guess that's one t-t-thing we all have in common." Bill agreed with Eddie without much seriousness.

"Yeah, home-schooled, welcome to the Losers' club." The rest of them laughed at Richie's commentary, everyone except Cassie, who still had her mind deep into thought about what had happened earlier. She had the power in her hand, the self-proclaimed right to play God and provide Henry himself with a good beating, and the thought of that still scared her.

She was never violent to the degree where she physically beat people up just for the sake of revenge, at least not like that.

"You okay?" Richie turned back to look at her and she snapped out of her thoughts. "I'll be honest, you look like shit."

She chuckled. "No more than you, Trash mouth."

"Ha ha ha, very funny." He commented with a sneer and turned back to the others.

"By the way, Cassie," Stanley turned to look back at her. "What did you do to their car?"

"What do you mean?"

He gave her an unimpressed look. "I saw you take something before we left to help Mike."

Everyone else turned to look at her with curiosity written over their faces, and that's when Cassie pulled out the car keys from her pockets and grinned. "Oh, this?" She toyed with it in her fingers, swinging it around her left index finger. "I don't think Huggins will mind if I borrow them for a little while."

"Holy shit!" Richie yelped. "You seriously took them?"

"Took what?" She asked innocently and put them back into her pockets."

"How should I know?" He nodded approvingly at her while the others just sighed. "So what the fuck are we supposed to do now?"

"How about we go eating?" Beverly suggested.

Nobody disagreed.

And like that, the Losers club was established.

* * *

Everyone eventually returned home, and like always, Cassie walked with Richie to the same street. There was an awkward silence lingering in the air, but not because they wanted to. Richie had attempted to strike up a conversation, but the Hayes girl's replies were either short or nonexistent. He didn't know what had gotten over her, whether it was the story with the clown that still frightened her or if it was that she had to return home to where she had encountered it.

He wanted to sympathize with her, he really wanted, but he knew he couldn't. Richie still thought it to be odd that they had all seen something whereas he hadn't. How was he supposed to know if it was real when he was the only one who hadn't seen it?

"I could've done it, and would've," she finally said something, but it was related to a subject he didn't know about.

Richie glanced at her to the side. "What do you mean?"

"I could've hit him with that rock earlier, and that's the scary thing," she said, not looking at him even once.

Realization finally hit him. "You mean that about Henry?"

She nodded in reply.

Richie honestly didn't know how to respond to that. He had never been fond of Henry Bowers. Hell, he even cursed his names a couple of times and wanted him to die, but he never thought that someone the same age as himself would even have the balls to go through with it, much less Cassie. He knew that the Hayes girl was a tough nail, but even so, being willing to take someone's life, much less bash his face with a rock, not for her own sake but for theirs, wasn't easily thinkable.

One thing was for sure though. "Wouldn't have mattered if you did it."

She finally mustered the strength to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," For once, he scratched the back of his neck. "You would've gone through a shit-load of trouble, but we would've still been friends."

"... Really?"

He nodded and nudged her in the rib. "Why not? Like I said, I think your soft side is showing."

She laughed, and for the first time, it wasn't a sarcastic one. "Thanks."

"Not to mention, didn't you say I was your boyfriend."

She instantly felt bashful. "... Shut up."

"No, really. I clearly heard you say-"

She hit him on the top of his head, not as hard as it could've been, but hard enough for him to shut up.

It was an odd feeling, but it was one she didn't want to disappear.

* * *

Cassie and Richie finally went their separate ways and they bid farewell. For some plausible reason, she walked at the slowest pace she could in order not to return home any sooner than she wanted to, and she didn't want to at all. The images were still running vividly in her mind, and it took her every inch of strength not to let the chills run up her skin at the reminiscence of what she had seen.

The blood. She could only pray that it didn't stay stuck on her floor like it had to Beverly's bathroom. If she had to see that for each day she lived in that damned house, without being able to convince her parents that it was real, she didn't know if she could bear it.

Sooner than she wanted, she finally arrived in front of her house and stood there for what felt like minutes, just standing there with her eyes stuck to the front porch. The same door where she had seen the damned clown, the wretched thing. The lights were on inside, and since it wasn't very late, she could only guess that her parents were home. A part of her hoped for that. At least it was preferable to the clown. Anything was.

Taking a deep breath, Cassie slowly walked up the steps to the entrance door and finally opened the door, letting herself inside. "Hello?" She called out, waiting for a reply. The odd thing wasn't that she didn't receive any, but there was a clear humming coming from inside her living room. It belonged to a woman, surely her mother, but why wouldn't she reply if she heard her daughter calling?

She hesitantly stepped inside and shut the door behind her, locking it. Though she didn't really want to, she knew her mother would demand answers as to where she had been the entire day, and she would have to answer them if she wanted to get away with as little punishment as possible. She slowly walked through the living room door and found her mother sitting on the couch, singing to herself whilst knitting what looked like some sort of blanket in bright colors.

Cassie didn't know which was oddest. Her mother at home or the fact that she was smiling while knitting? Claudia didn't even say anything, much less acknowledge her daughter's presence.

"Uhm, mom?" She called uncertainly, waving her hand up as if to gain her attention.

Albeit she didn't look up, Claudia replied. "Yes?" There was nothing more, not a scream or a demand for her earlier whereabouts. Nothing at all. Her eyes were solely glued to the blanket she was knitting in her hands.

"Sorry I wasn't home," was all she could say. The situation was both strange and awkward. "I was sleeping over at a friend's house."

"I didn't notice," Claudia replied tonelessly, still not looking up at her.

Cassie blinked flabbergasted. "You're not mad?"

"I don't care," she said. "You can do whatever you want."

Claudia then resumed with humming on the same melody she had when Cassie first walked inside the house.

 _"There once was a Crooked man,_  
 _Who walked a crooked mile._  
 _He found a crooked sixpence,_  
 _Against a crooked stile."_

Cassie didn't stick around long enough to hear her sing the rest of the nursery rhyme. There were more than just a few things that were out of place in her home, but she didn't want to investigate any further and quickly headed up the stairs to her room. When she went inside, she was cautious and scanned each crook of her room, beneath her bed and inside her closet. She didn't find any intruder or any clown for that matter, but that didn't ease her worries from her shoulders.

"I'm not nuts," she told herself and laid down on her bed, feeling drowsy. "I'm not nuts."

* * *

 **I apologize for any grammar mistakes. I will check it later, but it's late now.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own IT**

 **Blog:** _www . Wood - White - Writer . Tumblr . Com_

 **This is going to take place b** **efore the events of the 4th of July.**

 **Sorry for the long wait. School's a bitch whenever it takes up your time. However, it's soon vacation, so I'll probably be updating more often. Again, I apologize for the long wait.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Keep your Friends close and your enemies closer**

* * *

It wasn't soon after the losers left that Henry Bowers got up from his feeble and defeated position. Every inch of fuel inside him slowly but deliberately started creeping up his skin. He was trembling frantically as if he had just walked through icy water, but everyone who knew Henry Bowers knew that whenever he was trembling it was never out of any cold.

Surprisingly, he managed to walk back to the main road without any outburst or rage, ignoring the blood and bruised skin on his arms and legs when he spotted Vic and Belch by the car, frantically searching for something he did know what, nor did he really give a damn. All he could think about was a way to properly punish the idiots for scramming when he needed their back-up earlier. He wasn't sentimental enough to admit that he required their assistance, but he didn't take kindly to betrayal.

"Where are they?" Belch let out a frantic cry as he kicked away some of the leaves off the ground, looking like he was close to having a panic attack then and there. "Where the _fuck_ are they?"

"Will you shut the hell up?" Vic shouted back at him whilst he opened the door into the car jumped inside. None of them took notice of the bruised, bloodied, very vengeful, Bowers, who was slowly walking up towards them with a glare that could kill anyone it came into contact with. Had he had his knife there, he would've probably done something he would've not regretted later, but which he would've gotten in immense troubles for.

Finally, after throwing his arms up in the air with unspeakable frustration, Belch finally spotted Henry approaching them from the line of the forest. "Henry! Are you alright?" His first intentions were to run up and aid his friend/boss, but upon noticing the dangerously dark aura surrounding his eyes, he halted.

Vic stepped out of the car, having not found what he was searching for when he too acknowledged Henry's presence. "Henry, there you a-"

Henry grabbed a rock from the ground and threw it directly at him, gritting his teeth together to the point where it looked like he was grinding them to dust. Vic barely managed to dodge just in time, several strands of his hair flew up as it passed his head just a few inches. Scared wasn't the word he wanted to use to describe himself at that moment. Intimidated came closer to it, especially when it came to Henry's wrath. He was usually the one who stayed clear of his anger, but there were moments where not even he was excused.

This just proved to be one of those times.

"You bailed on me, you fuckers!" Henry shouted, drips of saliva fell from his mouth. Belch took a considerable amount of steps away without turning around and risk getting caught off-guard from behind.

"W-We were outnumbered," Vic tried to reason, stepping forth but letting a good few feet stand between himself and Henry. Unlike Belch, it wasn't easy for Vic to reveal when he was feeling threatened or when he was not, but that still didn't mean he would be risking his unscathed skin in an effort to prove it.

 _"Cowards!"_ shouted Henry and threw his arms down like a child having a temper tantrum, and coming from him, it rarely resulted in minimal damage. _"You goddamn pussies!"_

"Calm down, Henry," Vic stood his ground, but even he was feeling threatened. "We'll get them soon enough."

"We better! You better! Now get the goddamn car going and let's get the fuck out of here."

"I can't find the keys! They're gone!" Was all Belch could reply with, and needless to say, Vic didn't want to stay there long enough to become yet another witness, and victim, of one of Henry's un-exaggerated outburst. Even though Hockstetter was still missing, the group didn't cease to be regarded as perhaps the most dangerous delinquents in town. Henry himself made up for that.

Without looking back, Vic turned heels and started walking away from there.

"Hey, where are you going?" Belch shouted from behind, not wanting to deal with their boss alone.

Vic didn't answer and continued forth. He knew he would hear about it sooner or later, but anywhere but there would do nicely at the moment.

As for the keys to Belch's car, he did have a theory about their whereabouts.

* * *

Waking up nine in the morning felt more like a chore than something someone did out of their free will, at least from her perspective. Despite having gained closure the previous day about the clown she had seen, that the other had seen it as well, that she wasn't a looney from a mental asylum, it did little to relieve her of the uneasiness she felt surging through her nerves at the thought of it. If that wretched thing, that goddamned _monster_ , was real, then it would not be long before she would meet her inevitable doom if she let herself stay reckless.

"Of all things," she drew a hand over her face and sighed. "Why did it have to be a _clown_?"

She couldn't even pronounce the word properly without it sending shivers down her spine. It was dreadful to know that the same thing that terrorized her and her new-found friends was also taking the very same shape of the thing which creeped her out the most. "Ronald McDonald seriously got too much time on his hands," she joked and tried to bring up the mood, but to no avail. "He probably got tired of killing people slowly with burgers and fries and chose to do it quickly instead." The motivation to get up from the bed and do something productive was decreasing drastically as the seconds passed, and it was surely the reason why Nathan tended to call her a 'lazy ass'.

Unfortunately, she didn't get much luxury of sleep and was forced to get up once she discovered that her eyes would not oblige to her wishes. They stayed glued open, regardless of the silence and peace her room had become conquered by. It was preferable to a demonic clown, but not particularly any less inconvenient. It only seemed to add to the sensation that, despite her mother and father both being present in the house, she was still alone. She had heard them speaking to each other downstairs since early in the morning until her father, presumably, left for work and her mother was left with no one but herself to accompany.

Cassie lifted herself up from the comfort of her blankets and suddenly felt exposed like she was a vulnerable prey in the sight of a predator. There was nothing about anything she had discovered from yesterday that made any logical sense, not one piece of it. They had all seen it, everyone, that damned clown who visited her two days ago and made her see the thing which scared her the most... Yet its intentions were ambiguous, uncertain, _odd_. It had made all of them imagine the thing which frightened them the most, but they were all still alive. If it wanted to kill them, it would've already have done it.

What was it waiting for?

 _'And remember that there are no scary clowns in Maine,'_

"Damn you, Nathan. You owe me fifty bucks." She muttered and pulled her feet out of the blankets and placed them on the cold floor. The chills ran up and down her spine, but not necessarily from the cold of her room, but rather the thought of having to keep on with her day as if nothing in that godforsaken was wrong. If she had the authority, she would've wrecked the entire place from the bottom up to ensure that the monster was gone for good. It felt stupid, incredibly violent, and perhaps even wise, but stupid nonetheless. She didn't have the capacity to think anything through that morning anyway. Her hair was a mess and she sure could use a bath to help cope with her new-found ordeal.

Stepping out of her room with a set of spare clothes, she entered the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She could faintly hear the sound of her mother's singing from downstairs, the rhythm of the Crooked Man was playing over and over again for some reason. There was no way for certain to debunk if her mother was just going crazy or had just grown obsessed over the nursery rhyme. Either way, Cassie decided to not let it concern her any more than it needed to.

She bent over the bathtub and turned the faucet on, letting warm water stream down and fill it up little by little. Cassie sat down on top of the toilet and waited patiently, tugging her shirt off her until she sat there in just her underwear. The cold hit her skin, but not to the degree where she shivered. It was summer, after all. Her mother used to complain about how she always looked like a "walking skeleton" with her pale complexion and petite physique, and looking at herself now, Cassie knew she couldn't blame her. The last day had left her emptied of appetite and hunger, her stomach had shut down all signs of yearning for nutrition. Not to mention, her head was becoming slightly lighter than it used to be, and only then did she realize that the cold she was experiencing wasn't stemming from the exterior temperature alone.

Then there was the newly-received scar on her face. It didn't hurt as much as it did before but it wasn't a nice reminder of what kind of individual had placed it there to begin with. The letter H would now be a letter she would forever despise, despite the fact that her surname began with that. She had ripped the patch off, but it wasn't much of a nice scenery. She knew she would have to renew it if she wanted to walk downtown without having to suffer any obnoxiously odd glances her way. She knew that wouldn't be a problem from her mother, since she had, for some reason, avoided looking at her as of recently. It wasn't uncommon, but even something like this seemed a bit exaggerated. What had she done now to earn her her mother's disfavor?

Sooner than expected, the water reached up to the bring and she quickly bent over and turned the faucet off, efficiently shutting the water with the exception of a few remaining drops from the tip resonating in the water in the tub. For a second there, she halfway expected blood to start streaming out like it had back at Beverly's place, but there was no spot of red to be seen anywhere in the room. She exhaled in relief of being spared from the torment and pulled off the remainder of her underwear until she was completely exposed.

Before she stepped in, Cassie bent down to her knees and let her left hand into the water before she deemed the temperature just right. It had been a while since she last took a bath like that. Showers were short and didn't waste as much time and water like baths did, but she was feeling particularly distressed that morning so it seemed appropriate to let off some steam. She deserved it, and even if she didn't, she would take the right herself.

Finally, she stepped into the bathtub and sat back down into the steaming water, letting the cold abandon her senses. She sat there for what felt like hours, keeping everything below her lips beneath the water as to let the heat stay for longer. Everything that made her uneasy, every fear, lack of hope, distress, all faded away upon the touch of warmth. It felt good to be finally able to get some peace of mind, something she hadn't been able to get as of recently. It stressed her already that Nathan seemed to ignore her, but a fucking clown was just childish, not to mention utterly disbelieving. In what universe did such things happen? Not any that she had learned about from her astronomy lessons, that was for sure.

"Jesus Christ," she mumbled and let out a groan. If one thing was for certain, once she came of age, she would not be returning to Derry anytime soon. She would pack her bags and take the first plane out of there without question. Period. If the others were as smart as she hoped that they were, they too would grasp the opportunity to leave as soon as they could too. With the exception of family, she doubted that there was any reason to stay there if she valued her life, which she did. Not even her family could convince her otherwise that remaining in that godforsaken town was a good idea.

Taking a deep breath, Cassie allowed the weight on her shoulders to pull her further down into the water, but she let her arm hang over the edge of the tub just for the sake of safety. Paranoia was increasingly eating her flesh away, quite literally, and if she continued to let it do so, then she'd become nothing but a hollow husk of a fourteen-year-old by the end of the summer, if she even reached that far. Goddamnit, it bothered her! She was a _kid_ , she was supposed to enjoy the summer with friends and live her youth! She wasn't supposed to fear for her life and stay wary of some fucking Ronald McDonald each goddamn day! It wasn't supposed to be like that.

 _Funny how I think of myself as a child,_ she thought humbly. It was true, at least as far as she could tell. She was truly a childish girl, the closest thing she could ever get to be truly mature. When she was younger, she always assumed that becoming an adult would mean a change in the world only she could detect, a positive one. She had already had her period for the first time a few months ago and bled on a regular, but it didn't increase the sense of frivolity she felt her life needed. Whatever she would end up becoming once she came of age, she could only beg that it was preferable to the life she would have to endure if she ended up becoming affected by the monstrosity which was currently plaguing herself and her friends.

Cassie finally let herself sink entirely into the water until she was completely down, her face was blocked with water and her hair became thoroughly soaked. Her hair wasn't long to begin with, but the water made it seem as if the strands had extended considerably. She felt soothed and protected beneath the water, but there was a sense of fear which accompanied that sensation like she was exposed to dangers she was unable to detect. She held her breath and tried to let her mind wander off into the furthest corners of her mind. It was easier to do so when she was under pressure.

She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking she would open them to find herself in the same spot, but when she opened them again, she was no longer in the tub. In fact, she was no longer in the bathroom at all. Her surroundings weren't the same as they used to be. She was standing barefooted in cold, wet ground, but looking down at herself, she found out that she had her previous clothes on, so she wasn't entirely exposed. That was a relief, but the rest of it wasn't. Where the hell was she? How did she get there?

Everything was dark as far as her sight reached, only a few grinds from above her head provided her with light, but just barely enough to see where she was walking, and it wasn't very consoling to discover that she appeared to be standing in some sort of sewer system. The water she was standing in was murky and filled with all kinds of trash and junk, like greywater. Had her mother seen her standing there, there would've been problems to deal with. Unimaginable problems.

The scent of the sewers filled her nostrils and caused her to internally gag. It reminded her of someone's insides being inverted in a gruesome way, like the kind you could automatically imagine at the thought. She covered half of her face with her hand to keep the stench out and proceeded to take a step forward, but she didn't get far before an ear-piercing scream echoed through the tunnels, followed by the sound of scurrying footsteps trudging through the waters. They sounded like they were heading towards her, and being less than enthusiastic to stay there and figure out who they belonged to, Cassie quickly whirled around and was about to run when she heard something that caused her bones to freeze in her tracks.

 _"Tasty, tasty, beautiful fear."_

That voice was unmistakably recognizable, too much to her liking. Her skin began to quiver uncontrollably and her breaths were drawing in shorter and shorter. Cassie prayed she was mistaken, that it was all just a cruel dream and that she would wake up any moment, but unfortunately, fate proved itself to be twisted beyond imagination. The footsteps were by then close to headed up towards her, closing in on her location second by second. She guessed that it was only a matter of time before they finally were able to reach her. However, that turned out to not be the case.

 _"Help!"_ This wasn't the same voice, but she was able to put a name on it. It was the voice which belonged to a human, a certain Patrick Hockstetter. But how was that possible? Patrick was still missing and there was no way that he would just show up out of the blue after having been declared missing for the past two days. Without her initial consent, Cassie swiftly turned around and watched the figure of Hockstetter sprint up towards her, his clothes were smeared with blood which undoubtedly belonged to him. She felt sick to the stomach at the view and wanted to get the hell out of there, but she eventually decided not to run away.

She held her arms forth in a 'wait' motion and called. "Hockstetter!"

Still, instead of stopping when he came into sight, he kept on running until he was but a few feet away from her. Cassie held her arms up in defense and prepared to shout 'wait' at him, but her heart temporarily stopped when, instead of crashing right into her like any person would, Hockstetter ran straight _through_ her without as much as acknowledging her presence. He continued down the waters without stopping even once, and it wasn't until Cassie began hearing faint voices from the direction he had run from that she snapped out of her own bewildered thoughts. There were groans and sinister waves of laughter in the distance, they sounded like humans, but a voice in the back of her head told her otherwise.

"Fuck no," was all she managed to say before she too headed in the same direction as Hockstetter went, not intending on staying in the same place any longer. Despite having been walked through only moments before like a phantasm, the water below her feet still splashed as she continued running down the sewers. She didn't know what to do or where to go, but decided to follow after Hockstetter's footsteps in order to see if they succeeded to find an exit out of there. There was no way she would even consider following after him had she had a choice, but right now she was emptied of alternatives.

After what felt like longer than it truly was, Cassie found herself short of breath and eventually stopped to regain her composure. Her lungs were throbbing painfully against her chest and it seemed like she had just run the 5K, but a race would have been preferable to this sort of nightmarish ordeal. Only a couple of seconds passed since she stopped that the sound of metal up ahead started resonating through the tunnels, and she looked up to see Hockstetter in front of her, clinging to an iron-pipe in a vast attempt at protection. She never thought someone as sadistic as Hockstetter was even capable of the slightest hint of fear, but then and there, she watched it practically reek off him.

 _"So delicious."_

What happened next completely caught her off guard. In one second Hockstetter was standing there, breathing, bloodied, _alive_. In the next, he was nothing more than a pulp of mangled appendages and entrails. _Dead_. Cassie fell to her knees in the water and felt her stomach's short amount of content making its way up her throat. She scrambled back from the gruesome sight in front of her and covered her mouth in an effort to keep herself from throwing up. That image would forever haunt her mind, and she wasn't sure if she could ever recover from such a sight. Her breathing shortened severely, her every inch of skin was shivering uncontrollably, her eyes were twitching like crazy.

She was a traumatized mess personified.

 _"Did you enjoy the show, Cassie?"_

Had she been in her right mind at the time, she might have actually responded to the voice she, by then, knew all too well. Without wasting any time, she scrambled up to her feet and backed away from the clown standing up beside Hockstetter's mangled corpse. His- no, _ITs_ lips were smeared with blood from every corner of Its mouth. IT grinned from ear to ear at her expected reaction, as if any less of a reaction would've been deemed inhuman from ITs perspective. She held her arms consciously close to her and took a shaky step back.

"Who the hell are you?" She dared breathe out, feeling quite proud of herself for being able to speak without revealing how petrified she truly was. " _What_ are you?"

As IT heard this, IT began to laugh hysterically to the point where it had to hold ITs stomach. ITs hair was shaking along with the motions of ITs body, crimson hair like that any other clown would possess. She hated clowns more now than ever before. Her stomach fell to the pits of her body and she was less than motivated to keep the conversation going, yet for some reason, she didn't move away. Whereas a part of her wanted to bolt from there to wherever the exit was, even though the chances of her getting out of there alive were slim, another part wished to figure out the answer to the question. She wanted to figure out the answer to the demonic entity. What was IT and what the fuck did IT want?

After a couple of minutes, the laughter died down and so did the hysterics. Had it not been for the circumstances, Cassie would've called the authorities and informed them that an inmate from Augusta Mental Health Institute had escaped. It seemed at least more plausible than suggesting that IT was a demonic entity from the deepest pits of Hell, though that was an explanation she would rather believe herself. Talk about a hypocrite.

 _"I must say, I'm deeply hurt,"_ IT said, feigning hurtfulness as IT patted ITs chest. _"I thought you would remember your old friend Pennywise."_

"Friend?" She asked, taking yet another step back. "What do you mean by friend?"

The words barely abandoned her lips before the clown charged towards her with reflective, sharp, shark-like teeth displayed and grabbed her by the throat and held her up above the ground. A hiccup got caught in her throat and Cassie felt too panicked to properly respond to what was happening out of the sudden. All she could do was trash, like a miserable canine in a trap. IT laughed at her struggling self as she tired herself to free herself out of ITs grip, but IT was strong, inhumanely strong. She was like a mouse compared to a human, as ironic as it sounded, and she thought for sure that she was going to die then and there.

Then, IT proceeded to swing her down into the water and keep her in a firm grip. Cassie trashed and fought for what felt like an eternity, water was raping her lungs and forcing their way into her nostril. It burned her throat painfully like she was a piece of flesh held above a burning fire. She had always heard about how drowning was one of the most painful ways to die, as it was almost equivalent to drowning in one's own blood. She never believed it, but now she did.

However, the grip around her throat abruptly released itself of her and she no longer saw the murky, blurred water above her. Without thinking through it twice, Cassie sat up and felt the cold air hit her like a brick. She took a deep breath, having been denied access for far longer than she should've, then proceeded to cough and gag all of the water out of her mouth. She unsteadily yet quickly climbed over the edge of the tub and tumbled down on the cold floor with her shoulder first. She was back in her bathroom, but she was cold, panicked, not to mention, _scared_.

Cassie spent more than a few minutes trying to get all of the water out of her system. She threw up for the remainder of the liquid and sat there, naked and cold, trying to regain her breathing pattern. It ached her to breathe like acid had been poured down her throat against her consent. Shivers ran down her skin and it didn't take long for the tears to stream down her eyes. She was crying. She hadn't cried in what felt like years and that was for a childish reason, but she knew that she deserved to cry just this once.

* * *

She refused to finish her bath, no matter how much wasted water that was. She was sosososo scared, but she refused to show it to anyone, especially herself. After drying herself and putting on her clothes, Cassie grabbed her hat and prepared to head down the stairs before knocking on the door indicated that she would have to get down there regardless. They weren't hurried knocks like the ones belonging to impatient people were, but they were subtle, slow, and patient. The blurred glass on the door didn't do much to help her suggest who the figure in front of it belonged to, but she did have her guesses. Maybe it was Richie who had decided to spend the afternoon bothering her.

The knocking continued as she made her way down to the bottom of the stairs. Casting a look into the living room, she spotted her mother reading a magazine but not anyone else. Her father must've gone to work, and judging by Claudia's disinterested exterior, she would make no attempt at figuring out who it was that was patiently waiting for someone to open the door for them. Cassie sighed and turned back to the door before opening it. The person she saw standing there was no one but the very person she least expected to see, and the same person she was the most pissed off by except the clown.

Vic stood there, scratching the back of his head as soon as he spotted her there. Cassie held the doorknob firmly and refused to open it more than she had already done. Two questions surged through her mind, one more severe than the other one. What did he want and how did he know where she lived? If Henry Bowers somehow got a hold of her address, she didn't want to think about the problems he could cause her. Not to mention, the scar on her cheek was still clearly visible, so she hadn't even bothered to patch it up after she was done bathing. Surprisingly enough, when she looked to both the left and the right in an attempt to spot either Bowers or Belch hiding somewhere, Vic spoke up.

"They're not here."

She scowled and cast him a nasty look, one which clearly caught him off-guard. "And why I should trust you?"

"You shouldn't," he said with a shrug. "But I'm not lying. I'm by myself."

Surprisingly, it didn't sound like he was lying, but Cassie knew better than to take his words for it in an instant. "Really?"

He nodded. "Really."

She didn't want to, but she somehow found herself semi-believing what he told her and reluctantly opened the door to let herself out before she shut it behind her. The scowl on her face didn't disappear, but she refrained from making a scene out of it. "What do you want?" It was an easy question, not a melodramatic one like the movies would suggest. Vic was a bully, a coward, a subservient servant under the dictatory of Henry Bowers. He would say and do anything to save his skin from painful punishments like the ones his boss would be able to perform on him. He didn't earn any decency from her, not like she initially thought when they first met.

He opened his mouth to answer, but his eyes suddenly fell on the mark on her cheek, and his shoulders dropped. A small sensation of guilt pierced through him like a needle. He hadn't been the one to carve that letter into her skin, but he hadn't done anything to prevent it. He knew Henry was a violent person, more so than either he or Belch ever were, but that didn't mean that he found Henry's wrongdoings to be any less severe than what bullies usually did. He was worse. What he had done to the fat- _Hanscom_ , and Cas- _Hayes_ only proved how far Henry had fallen. Then again, Vic wasn't any better himself. He knew that from all the looks his mother cast him whenever he would go out to hang with them.

Cassie spotted his change of features and smirked as she leaned back against the door and crossed her arms over her chest. "Pretty?" She asked and gestured to her scar. "Now I have a constant reminder about what kind of fucked up people live here. I also say this on Ben's behalf."

"I... I didn't-"

"Does it look like I give a shit?" she sharply interrupted him. "Save your breath on the matter. Tell me what you want and get the fuck out of here." She didn't want to have to endure his presence any further. There was nothing that pissed her off more than cowards, especially if they were bullies like Vic and Bowers. They were jackals, cowardly assholes who thought they were at the top of the food chain mainly because they had the tendency of cornering people who were on their own in town. She bet that if she placed them up against a bunch of well-trained wrestlers, they would be the ones at the bottom. It was always like that.

He made sure to avoid her cold look as he answered, but he couldn't help but to somehow admire her icy eyes from his stance. He wanted to shake his head and tell himself to grow the fuck up, he wasn't some grade-schooler anymore. However, upon daring to look into her deep eyes, he found himself vaguely admiring them. Like an untamed beast behind the bars of her cage which were her eyes. He felt remorse for what he had done the other day, for not interfering with Henry, but he wouldn't risk his pride at that. A couple of seconds passed and she purposefully coughed, snapping him out of his thoughts. Finally, he answered. "The keys."

Cassie blinked and feigned oblivion. "The what?"

"I know you took them. Belch's keys." He said, easily detecting the subconscious lies she told. "You're lucky I'm not Henry or Patrick. Compared to them, I'm the good guy here."

"Compared to them, you're a coward."

"I'm a _coward_?" He took offense to that word far more than he ought to and he took a step forward in an effort to try and force her arrogance at bay, but she stood her ground without moving an inch and let her gaze falter to the ground.

"Yes, Criss, you are," she said, surprisingly calm. "You hide behind the facade of some tough punk and constantly harass others you deem as 'weak' just so you can feel on top of the world. It's like I've always said," She looked up at him with neither confidence nor narcissism about her stance, but the look he had witnessed earlier hit him straight in the face. It was the same look she had given him when they were throwing rocks at each other by the river, the same look his mother gave him on a daily basis whenever he left home to go hang out his friends. It was the same sense of _disappointment_. Like before, Vic was unable to reason why it plagued him more than he should've let it. He could understand it when it came from his mother, but he couldn't comprehend why it bothered him especially from someone like Hayes. "You're nothing more than a pissant with daddy issues."

Vic found himself losing all form of self-control and composure, which wasn't uncommon among his other traits, but it still surprised him as to why he allowed such petty words to get to him at such a short amount of time. He had heard worse comments, worse slangs from other people twice as big as someone like Hayes, and they had been taught their lessons easily, but this somehow got to him on a childishly emotional level. He, without his mind's consent, raised his arm and prepared to strike, but Cassie saw this coming and easily dodged it, letting his fist collide with the wood material behind her.

Few strands of his bleached hair fell to the side and he found himself short of breath for no apparent reason but the emotional loophole Hayes had somehow been able to pierce through like a whistleblower. His first stayed attached to the door material like flesh against a flame, a small crack had erupted from the impact. Hayes said nothing at first, but then a grin spread itself across her lips. She was neither scared nor wary, he could detect as much, but she was visibly amused by his childish tantrum. There were rare occurrences where someone like Vic let his emotions get the better of his actions; whenever he hit someone, it was mainly due to the entertainment it brought him. However, now it was not he who was amused.

Hayes took a step to the side and straightened her spine properly before she finally mustered the will to look into his eyes. "See? Anyway," she waved her hand dismissively as she brushed past him, not even bothering to cast him another look of acknowledgment. It was as if he was nothing more than a ghost in her presence, and brushing past him was like walking directly through him. Vic was known for being acknowledged by children and adults alike, both reasons were for his delinquency, but this time, he was being ignored like transparent air.

"If you want the keys to that ugly-ass Trans Am, it's in the garbage can outside. Do try to jump in there while you're at it. Trash like us deserves to be with trash, right?" And just like that, she left without as much as a second retort. Vic was left standing there emptied of words and emptied of thoughts. His fist hadn't left the door and he felt like an idiot for just standing there. He debated with himself whether he could chase after her and prove her wrong, prove to her that he wasn't a coward or a piece of trash, prove her wrong about everything he had said about her. He wanted to prove just how much power he had and how easily he would be able to take her down like the bitch she was.

But he stopped as he slowly removed his hand from the door. There was nothing he could do, even before she exited his range of sight. He found himself powerless and afraid, but not in the way that he wanted to pee his pants and scream out into the open. He was scared in the kind of way where he knew that, in the end, what she had told him wasn't wrong. He was a piece of trash, and he belonged with trash. But his mind couldn't help but to repeat what she had said at last.

 _"Trash like us deserves to be with trash, right?"_

What did she mean with ' _us_ '?


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own IT**

 **Blog:** _www . Wood - White - Writer / Tumblr . com_

 **Author's note: Apologize for the waiting. Was struck with writer's block for a while.**

 **Ps. You'll find an easter egg to another IT fanfic in this chapter. See if you can spot it ;)**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 12: A Watched Pot Never Boils**_

* * *

"Son of a bitch!" Richie slammed the cards down at the table with exasperation and was less than subtle about losing yet another game of Poker against his opponent, who couldn't help but let an arrogant smirk come into view as she threw her own cards down, though more ceremoniously than her trash-mouthed friend. She had been taught how to play, and efficiently win, such tricky card games by her friend back in North Carolina, and it visibly paid off having mischievous friends sometimes to keep her from falling into the addiction of betting her packs of skittles away. Not that she ever had to. Cassie's Pokerface was as efficient as it could get, and even Richie found it easier to admit that than to admit defeat.

"What's wrong?" she asked sweetly. "Sore about losing to a girl?"

"You're cheating!" He pointed an accusing finger at her. "You have to be cheating!"

"Cheating on you? I would never!" She gasped and feigned hurtfulness, but quickly went back to playfulness again. "If I was cheating, you wouldn't see it coming, pal," she said with a chuckle and leaned back into her seat, placing both of her arms behind her head in relaxation. The late June sun wasn't as hot as it used to be, but it was comfortable nonetheless. Not to mention, it helped her forget about the dreadful occurrences that happened earlier to her. With someone as obnoxious yet helpful as Richie to keep her company, it didn't feel like such a threat to venture outside anymore. However, there was no way in actual hell she was feeling tempted to return back to the house at Neibolt street anymore. It seemed like the exact place where a murderous clown would linger, much less a killer. Then again, it was the first place she had first spotted _IT_ , so it was probably the contributing reason as to why she genuinely didn't want to go there.

Had she been a couple of days younger, she probably wouldn't have possessed the same wary thoughts as her present-self did. She pulled a few strands from her hair away from her face and sat upright again, grinning at Richie as he picked up the few cards he had been unfortunate enough to throw on the grass beneath the table during the process of his childlike temper tantrum. She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't be such a crybaby, I'm sure you'll defeat me someday," she assured him with no real intentions of assuring him. It was just a way for her to amusingly poke his anger, and it worked without much-required effort. He shot her a sharp, yet benevolent, glare and readjusted his glasses before picking up the last card. The _Joker_. Now, why _did_ that grin on its face unnerve her so much?

He slammed the deck of cards back onto the table-surface and began to put up another game yet. Cassie had to sigh and mentally face-palm herself. They had already been playing over five rounds and he was still determined on defeating her. In his dreams. "I'll win this time for sure," Richie said without looking at her as he positioned the cards out. "I'll definitely win," Despite all the swearing and the shouting and the cursing that was occasionally exchanged from the unofficial couple in the backyard of the Toziers, it didn't seem like either of his parents heard as much as a word of it. None of them had come out to tell them to shut the hell up, which made Cassie guess that they were either too lazy to care, like her own parents, or maybe out running errands.

Still, it felt good to be outside again. Just being... Kids. It didn't seem like she had had the privilege of being one as of recently. Ironic to think about how a symbol for childhood became the primary source of that reason. It almost seemed like something which was to surreal to be considered even plausible. She shook her head and put her focus back on the game when Richie finished putting out all of the cards, and that was how she wanted to spend her childhood, at least what remained left of it. They continued playing for an hour or less, making up for four more games (all of which she won except one), and they decided to call it a day and figure out something else to do.

"What about meeting the others?" she suggested and took a sip from the can of coke Richie had stolen from his father's secret stash.

He shrugged. "Mike's at work and Ben's at the library. Besides, fucker Bowers is without a doubt still pissed with what happened yesterday."

"Right," she nodded. She had already had Vic on her door, and she honestly didn't want getting risked with Bowers again.

Richie's eyes suddenly fell on her face, or specifically, her scar, and a flash of concern washed over him despite how much he tried to hide it. He was predictable like that. "Does it... hurt?" he asked quietly, but she shook her head in response to his question.

"It did, but not anymore," There wasn't an easier answer to give him because it didn't hurt her at all in the way he would imagine it would. It hurt her, yes, when fucking Bowers first carved his first initials into her skin like ink to a tattoo, but it wasn't the physical paint that harmed her the most. It was her pride which bothered her the most. She had been too weak to even fight back against him, and because of that, she was now doomed to wear those initials on her face as visible as daylight. Fucking Bowers.

For a split second, she regretted not bashing his head in the other day with that rock. The sight would have brought her immense pleasure, but she would only be plagued with guilt afterward. She didn't know she had such a morbid sense of humor. Of course, mentally killing people was never something she was against, but it seemed as though the image of killing that pissant, the one who did such cruel things to every kid in town, disturbed her the most. If that wasn't ironic, she didn't know what was.

"Uhm, earth to Cassie," Richie flicked his fingers in front of her to get her attention, and only on the third one did he succeed to snap her out of her thoughts. The Hayes girl blinked a few times before she finally looked back at him, focus and equanimity checked off the list.

"Yeah?"

"I tried calling you like three times," he exasperated annoyed. "You were, like, gone."

"Sorry," she apologized with a scoff and faux indignation. "Your face put me off for a second."

"Very funny,"

"Right, I'm fucking hilarious."

Cassie plopped herself down on the newly-cut lawn and spread her arms out as if to embrace the sun above. Now, she didn't particularly believe in any God or divine creatures, but if there had really existed any, they would've hugged the living daylight out of her. It seemed more bearable than being barbecued in the middle of the summer. She heard the spot next to her let out a squeaking sound as Richie positioned himself next to her with his body in a way which was almost identically to her.

They laid there for what felt like hours, which in reality was only a couple of moments, living their youth like they were supposed to, enjoying the summer and enjoying the little time they were granted before the burdens of adolescence would strip that away from them. Life seemed too short for misery and fear, and that was the one thing she cursed about life. If there was only a way for her to relive her life, make up past mistakes, befriend her friends again and spend more time with them. Damn, she had gotten too attached to them, more than she thought she would.

Casting a look at Richie next to her, she let out a sigh and returned with looking at the sky again, marveling the sight of such a color. Blue. She liked that color very much, but she was more of a green type than any other, especially above red. Red. That color haunted her as of recently.

"Hey, you got any siblings?" Richie's sudden question caught her off-guard, but she didn't move from her spot. It had grown too comfortable over the course of the few minutes since she first laid down.

"Why this topic?" she asked disinterestedly.

He shrugged. "No reason, just asking."

She shook her head without looking up at him. "I'm an only child, though I'm sure my parents wish they had another child."

"Yeah," Richie agreed. "Mine too."

"What are your parents like?" she asked, wanting to compare which pair seemed the most endurable of the both.

"My parents love me, of course, who can resist my charm?" He grinned and gestured to himself like a golden trophy. "But I don't think that they feel very close to me. I even heard my mother telling my father that she was thinking of getting another one."

"Another kid?" Cassie inquired and furrowed an eyebrow. Wow. That seemed like a very cruel way to get the child you always wanted by replacing the one you were dissatisfied with. Cruel indeed. Then again, it didn't seem like something her own parents wouldn't attempt at doing just for the sake of 'rewriting' their past mistake. Her.

"She wants a girl," he explained, his tone sounding a little less arrogant than it used to. He was actually sounding ... Sad. "A girl she can spoil like a princess and dress up like she wants to. She can't do that with me."

"Because you're a boy?"

"Because I don't let her," he answered earnestly. "She wants to call her Gwendolyn."

Cassie suppressed a snort and covered her mouth. _Gwendolyn_ , it reminded her of an Arthurian name, quite old and traditional but with its own charm to it. Then again, her own name wasn't much to brag about either. The thought of having a sibling never hit her in the face, mainly because it was so unheard of that it didn't even sound possible. Her parents rarely interacted with each other on a daily basis, so the idea of them getting it together didn't really appeal to the prospect. Hell, she couldn't imagine herself as an older sibling. She wasn't fit for that role.

After a moment of long silence, Cassie sat up with her arms behind her, supporting her up. "Well, I don't think you'd make a bad sibling if you taught the kid all of your tricks," she admitted, thinking deeply about the subject.

"Huh?" Richie started thinking about the chance that he had just misheard her comment. "Wait! It sounds like you support the idea of my mother getting knocked up!" He sat up and leaned close to her, studying her face for answers with a skeptical eyebrow raised. "Don't tell me that you-"

"Not like that, you moron," She slammed her fist into his shoulder with a frown, effectively knocking him back down to the grass with his face first. "I'm just saying that if, for conversation's sake, you got a little sister, think about all of the shit you could teach her. It would cause your parents to give up trying to change the way you are by understanding that there's no escape from the Richard-syndrome."

"You speak of it like some propaganda shit," he muttered and scratched his head, pulling out a few strands of grass that had been picked up from the fall. "Besides, I'm no teacher, so learning others my skills are out of the question." He groaned. "Can't we just talk about something else?"

She shrugged indifferently. "Sure, I think that these kinds of controversial subjects are rated PG 13 anyway, and I won't risk you getting any nightmares," She clasped her hands together and stood up, glancing patronizingly down at Richie with a childish pout on her face. "It would be bad if little Richie ended up wetting his bed in the middle of the night."

"Shut up!"

* * *

A few hours later, Richie had to leave due to some urgent matters with Eddie, to which he told Cassie she couldn't come because it was apparently 'personal'. Though less than motivated to go home to that dreaded house, Cassie said goodbye to Richie and left his house, the bag of leftover snacks hanging over her shoulder with the doubled weight of her thoughts accompanying it. Richie was the only one keeping her from going home, as far as she knew, and she had no idea where the others were. The only homes she knew of belonged to Bev, whose father she did not want to meet in person, and Ben, who wouldn't seem comfortable with staying alone with a girl unless it was said Marsh girl. Not insinuating anything crude.

Cassie gripped the bag consciously as if afraid of losing it and let out a deep breath, muttering incomprehensible and incoherent words to herself. They were neither of anger nor of sadness, but it rather something she had a habit of doing whenever she didn't know what to do. She started tugging tighter on the straps over her shoulder, unknowingly training the skin beneath her shirt to a reddened color. Still, it seemed as if she hardly noticed the physical pain she was inflicting on herself. Without looking up even once, Cassie kept walking on the road opposite to her house, hellbent on making her way from there. She didn't want to return until night unless she was fortunate enough to find someplace to crash for the night. It was summer, it was warm outside, so blankets and pillows weren't necessary.

She chuckled to herself. If she told anyone that the reason she didn't go home was that there was a fucking Ronald McDonald in her house, no one would've believed her, especially not herself. For a split second, she considered taking up on Pamela's suggestion and call the cops, but the idea quickly turned to oblivion when she remembered that it was nothing ordinary like a burglar she was dealing with. Chills went up and down her spine in the summer heat as she recalled the faces everyone else made when they mentioned seeing the same thing, the same clown. It was no joke. If they hadn't seen a clown, they had seen something unsettling.

The images returned quicker than she anticipated, sending her into a temporary relapse and she stopped in her stance, breathing slowly. Her mother's blood thoroughly soaking the floor, telling her that she couldn't stand her, was just too much for her to handle at once. True, her relationship with her mother wasn't the most stable one, but she didn't hate her to the point where she wanted her to die. She was her mother, it only came as a necessary feeling to be able to love someone. She loved her mother. She always would. Hell, she loved her father too. They were her parents, her family. She wanted them to stay and be with her, even if they weren't expressive about their own love towards her.

Neglecting to look up, Cassie took a couple of steps and continued forth, but didn't get far before she felt herself crashing into someone. There came a grunt from her as she took a step back, prepared to apologize to whoever she had crashed into, before her face fell on that of a clown's and she froze in her stance, completely paralyzed in fear. That was, however, until he spoke up, smiling benevolently at her as he talked.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetie! Are you alright?"

She didn't respond at first, only observing his features. This clown did not look a bit like the one she had learned to fear and looked actually quite human in comparison. The only thing they shared in common was the reddened nose covered in paint. The clothes he wore was quite similar to the clown if one looked closely enough, but not so exaggerated. It just looked like an ordinary costume you'd expect to see from a circus on the circus. This person was human, no doubt about that.

Cassie shook her head. "It's fine. Sorry for bumping into you."

"Nonsense," The clown said dismissively, shaking his hand along. "Such a pretty girl like yourself should've have to apologize for anything."

That was when she suddenly noticed something. Standing next to the clown was a balloon stand decorated with paintings of smiling animals and childish drawings. As well as that, there were numerous of floating balloons attached to it, making her a little uneasy. It looked like he just came from a circus or a carnival, so what was he doing in the middle of Turner street?

"Uhm, sorry for asking, Mr ..."

"My name's Bob," said the clown and bowed down courteously, one hand on his stomach and the other one stretched out behind him. "Bob Gray."

"Mr. Gray-"

"Just call me Bob," the clown persisted.

"Alright, Bob," It sounded strange to say, but she didn't comment on it. "Sorry for sounding so blunt, but what are you doing here?"

As if having just been reminded of something, the clown grew sad and sulked. "I'm headed for town, you see."

"Are you here for the 4th of July parade? That's not for a few days." Why had he bothered to pump so many balloons when the parade wasn't until a few days? They would just go to waste unless he intended on giving them to the children around. She shrugged. "Town's just down that road. Follow it and you'll find it." She instructed him, gesturing for the road to their right opposite of them.

The clown's face lit up with excitement. "Thank you so much," he said and suddenly reached for something behind his back, which turned out to be a red balloon. "And as a way to say thank you,"

Cassie held both her arms up and shook her head subtly as possible. There was no way she was going to have a red balloon with her, especially not after what happened earlier. "No, you don't need to-"

"Nonsense," the clown persisted and reached it to her. "It's on the house for your help, and as a way of saying sorry for bumping into you earlier."

"No, it's really-"

But the clown didn't take no for an answer, and before she knew it, her left hand was occupied with a red balloon which said _I love Derry._

The clown smiled despite her visibly uncomfortable reaction. "Well, I have to leave now. Thanks again for your help."

Despite her deadpan look, Cassie smiled, though it was rather forced. "Y-You're welcome."

"Goodbye, Cassie. Hopefully, we'll see each other soon." And the clown walked away with his stand, disappearing from her line of sight. It wasn't until several moments passed that she realized something, and when she did, her skin went cold with fear.

"Wait a minute, how did he know my name...?" But as she turned to search for him, he was completely gone. There was no trace of him anywhere. She looked up at the balloon in her hand, and for some reason, a reason she knew very well, there reeked an ominous feeling from it.

* * *

 _A sloppy creature? She dared to call IT a sloppy create? Sure, IT enjoyed making the biggest messes of ITs victims in order to aspire fear and salt the meat, but it would never consider ITself a savage beast incapable of being generous from time to time. IT could easily provide them with quick and painless deaths, but only if IT was particularly generous._

 _That generosity, however, was excluded from her._

 _With the flesh of young David still attached to ITs teeth, IT drew ITs hands over ITs mouth, smearing the blood around ITs lips. Any ordinary brat would've run away screaming at the sight of IT in ITs current state, but she didn't._

 _It didn't come as a surprise._

 _After all, she wasn't ordinary._

 _Rather than snapping a remark at her like IT had so many times before, IT grinned, revealing several rows of shark-like teeth on display, stained with the crimson blood of ITs latest victims. "Tell me, how's Maturin nowadays? Old and weary, yes?"_

 _The girl said nothing._

 _"Quite honestly, it's a shock that the Tower hasn't collapsed yet. I almost expected him to crush under the pressure, that lazy Turtle. Seems like he's holding on a little longer than I anticipated from him. How's it there these days?"_

 _She still said nothing regarding his question, but there was one thing she said, one thing that made him infuriated beyond reason._ _  
_

 _"He tells me that you've forgotten your manners."_


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own It**

 **Truly sorry for the lack of updates as of recently. I'm experiencing major writer's block and as such, this chapter is a little bit short. However, I can say with honesty that I'm not, by any means, abandoning it. It will be a full story before I get wrinkly. The next chapter will be longer.**

* * *

 **Chapter 13: Misery Loves Company**

* * *

The 4th of July was a celebration which Cassie had never felt too keen about engaging in the parade of. As a child, her mother would try and force her into wearing the most ridiculous dresses in order to impress her fellow mothers in the neighborhood and make an example of what a proper woman's girl was supposed to look like. Needless to say, that day ended with Cassie practically throwing it off into the mud and earning herself another earful from her mother the following evening, but it was worth it. Now, however, Cassie had other matters to attend to rather than worrying about what kind of clothes she was supposed to wear. Not that she did much of the latter anyhow.

The following morning, no later than eleven o'clock, she got up from her bed after what felt like the best sleep she had had in a long time and quickly got dressed into clothes she deemed appropriate enough not to be looked upon by disdain by the other citizens on such a remarkable day. Under ordinary circumstances, she would not have hesitated to do anything to piss them off, but now she could actually give a damn. As long as it meant that she wouldn't earn herself some unwanted attention and tend to problems that she couldn't afford to care less about, she was satisfied.

After washing her face, brushing her hair, and putting on her hat, Cassie was just on her way to leave the room when her eyes fell on the telephone next to her bed. They lingered on it for a minute or so, as her mind was contemplating on the idea of actually trying to reach Nathan. She hadn't spoken to him in weeks, and it didn't really seem like he was as much as trying to contact her, otherwise, he would've bothered to type her number down and make an effort. Was he busy with something, or perhaps on vacation? He had been quick to put down the phone the last time they spoke as if he was in a hurry. But that didn't seem like something he would do without an explanation.

Cassie scoffed and exited the room, slamming the door behind her. "Forget it."

She could care less if he was deciding on ignoring her through the summer, but that didn't decrease the ache she experienced in her chest when she thought of the possibilities of that statement being true. Was Nathan deliberately ignoring her existence now that they didn't stand next to each other like they were before? Had he simply discarded her like a waste of space or was there something else keeping him occupied? Granted, she hadn't been very keen on making any phone calls now that a clown was practically breathing down her neck, but that didn't excuse his absence either.

The thought continued to lurk behind her as she headed down the stairs on the way to the entrance door. A knot had manifested itself in her stomach as a result, churning her insides to a painful point. _"He's grown bored with you,"_ a voice in her head said, taunting her with dark chuckles following behind. She froze in her steps and felt her muscles tense, intensifying the increasing pain in her. _"He's already forgotten you."_

"That's a lie," she spat, not caring about the fact that the voice was nothing more than her doubt materializing from her subconscious.

" _Is it?"_ the voice asked patronizingly. _"Your own parents don't even care anymore. Do you honestly believe he would? Perhaps your friends will follow the same pattern soon enough?"_

Cassie felt her teeth grind themselves together against one another at the mention of this. She had barely stayed in town for a month and she had already been granted such weird, oddballs, social misfits as friends. She wouldn't want them in any other way. They were her friends, the only ones it seemed like she currently had. As strange as it seemed like to admit to herself, she was fond of them to the point where she would want them to stay with her, or vice versa. She clenched her fists into knots similar to the one in her stomach and said, "They won't forget me."

" _They won't? How so?"_

"They aren't like _those_ people."

" _People vanish around her almost every day and are quickly forgotten. What makes you any different? What if you suddenly disappear one day? Will they notice? Will anyone?"_

"I won't disappear," Cassie said, unclenching her fists and letting out a sigh.

" _You wouldn't be able to stop it if you tried,"_

At this, Cassie felt all her tense nerves relax, and for some unfathomable reason, it felt as if there was nothing for her to worry about anymore. Warmth spread throughout her body and she thought back to what the voice in her head had said. Now, the thought of the clown didn't seem to petrify her now as much as it used to do anymore.

Slowly, a smile curled up her lips and she said very calmly, "Watch me." Before she headed out of the door, she turned around and shouted into the living room where the muffled voices of her parents could be heard. "Mom, dad, I'll be going now!" No reply was heard, however, and she took this as a sign of their approval and headed out of the door, closing it quietly behind her without further thoughts about her earlier doubts. The voice was gone.

* * *

After one of the regular morning-arguments with his mother, Victor headed out of the house in a fit of annoyance and slammed the door behind him, causing the handle to almost fall off. The weather outside was remarkably bright and sunny, which didn't exactly strike him as a surprise. The street where his neighborhood was located was less decorated than he knew that all of the other streets in Derry were, but that hardly seemed to faze him. If anything, he could survive with being excluded from all the exaggerated cheering which resonated from the center of the town. It was always a nuisance with the parade, all of the stupid kids running around with balloons and lollipops, and the music. God, that awful music never ceased their attack on his ears.

Pulling his hair back in order to appear a little more promising, Victor pushed both of his hands into the pockets of his jeans and began to head down the street. There were few people around the neighborhood who were unaware of his affiliations with the troubled son of the deputy sheriff, but he could care less about what they thought. They were all good-for-nothings anyway, just like he was, so they were in no position to judge him. Pissing on other children for fun was something he considered more of a chore than an actual hobby, less so than either Henry of Patrick did. The only reason why Belch joined was because it made him seem more important than the idiot really was, and that wasn't really saying much from his perspective. Belch wasn't important in the gang either. The only reason Henry kept him around was because of his car, which was still a mess after what the Hayes girl had done with it.

Admittedly, Victor would've paid to see that in person.

Victor continued down the road until he made a right turn which would lead him straight to town. The only reason why he wished to go there in the first place was that the man at the pub, Greggory, didn't give a rat's ass about giving beer to a minor as long as he was paid well for it. Pulling out the few dollars he had managed to take from Belch's car a few days prior, Victor didn't doubt that they would be enough to compensate for a good old Corona. He could use a drink now, and an hour or so without Henry would probably do him some good. The latter had grown quite… Unnerved over the last couple of days, more so than usual. Without Patrick around anymore, wherever that dickhead went off to, Victor imagined that the group would be less involved with that shit they usually meddled with. Boy, was he wrong. Nothing had changed other than that they were now one person short.

The festive music in the distance closed in on him the faster he approached town, and the closer it got, the more he could feel annoyance building up inside of him. He picked up the pace and made a beeline straight towards the pub the moment he stepped within the perimeter separating the center of town from the rest of it. He could briefly spot the pub sign outside the shop, blurred by the numerous of ridiculously-clothed people standing in line to make it to the clown distributing balloons. Why did the moron have to stand _there_ of all places? If someone saw Victor going inside the pub, he would be in much more trouble than he usually was in, and Greggory only delivered out drinks if he knew that he wasn't being watched by someone who could potentially spread the words of his law-breaking dealing.

Groaning to himself, Victor decided to wait until the crowd had cleared up and sat down on the bench outside of the ice cream shop. The musical bands had moved a little further up ahead on the road yet were close enough for Victor to hear them clearly. He scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, determined to try and shut out as much noise as possible without making it visible. Unfortunately, he failed miserably at it.

"What are _you_ doing here?" a voice asked. Victor glanced up with narrowed eyes, certain that the words had been aimed towards him. There were few instances were skeptical retorts weren't meant for someone like him, but upon looking up, he was surprised to discover that they were not, in fact, for him to claim credit for. By the entrance of the ice cream shop, Victor spotted the Keene girl standing there with two cones of ice cream in her hands. Her back was to him, and that's when he discovered whom it was that she had apparently begun bickering with.

"That's none of your business, Keene," said the relaxed voice belonging to the Hayes girl, and on cue, Victor looked up to find her standing there, hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket and eyes glowering at the Keene girl with something akin to a mischievous aura surrounding her. She smirked at the Keene girl. "Though you seem to have a proneness towards getting involved regardless,"

The Keene girl snarled at this, tightening the grip around her ice cream cones to the point where they threatened to break. "Are you waiting for _Beeverly_ , is that it? You're waiting for your whore-friend?"

At this, Victor noticed that the Hayes girl's glare sharpened but the smirk didn't vanish. Somehow, it only made it seem more petrifying. "Careful, Keene," she said, not an ounce of anger to hear from her tone. "Otherwise you might end up in a very pitiful position."

The Keene girl cackled mockingly. "What'cha gonna do? Get one of Beeverly's boyfriends to beat me up? Maybe one of your own? The friend of a slut is surely a slut herself, right?"

"Nope." And without warning, the Hayes girl proceeded to snatch one of the ice cream cones from the Keene girl's grasp, much to the latter girl's surprise. Just as she was about to protest, the Hayes girl turned the ice cream cone upside-down and dumped the containment over her head. The look on the blonde girl's face was almost enough to make Victor laugh out loud but he refrained and decided to keep quiet and watch in silence as the scene unfolded.

The Hayes girl dropped the rest of the cone on top of her head and took a step back, chuckling at the sight of what she had just done. "Oops," she said unapologetically, waving her hand dismissively. "My hand slipped. I've given out so many hand jobs to people that I seem to have lost my grip. Do forgive me, why won't you?"

That was all the Keene girl said before she went running in the opposite direction, eyes filled with tears and face red with embarrassment and humiliation. True enough, several people other than Victor himself had witnessed what had happened and were now laughing as they watched the Keene girl scurry down the street with ice cream dripping down her head. Unable to contain himself any longer, Victor let out a laugh and held his stomach. That, however, warranted the attention from the Hayes girl, and the laughter stopped. She sharpened her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"What?" he shrugged indifferently and leaned back into the seat, feet crossed and hands behind his head. "Isn't a guy allowed to enjoy himself on such a marvellous day?"

"Cut the crap," she said curtly. "It's practically oozing from you."

"Just like piss is coming from you," he retorted.

"Funny," she glanced around the place, possibly looking for any signs of Henry or Belch. "I don't see your pals anywhere. Bowers still sulking at home or something?" She sneered.

"Hell if I know," He shrugged again.

Hayes raised an eyebrow, bemused. "You don't know? Aren't you like his friend-with-benefits or something?"

"Aren't you that four-eyed faggot's girlfriend or something?"

"Sure," she said. "Rather that than anything with Bowers."

He didn't believe that for one second, but a part of him couldn't help but to feel…. Envious? Victor scoffed. "Yeah, right." He thought for a moment. "What was that between you and Keene?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," She plopped down on the ground next to the bench, even though the bench had more than enough room for two, and placed her elbow on top of one of her knees. "Keene's a nuisance. I just had to remind her of it."

"And people call me evil," he couldn't help but chuckle, and surprisingly, that seemed to conjure a smirk on her lips. "You practically annihilated her."

"I wouldn't go as far as to call it that," Hayes said, eyes now pointed suspiciously on the clown on the road ahead of them, still giving out balloons to both kids and adults alike. "I just made sure that she knew when to keep her tongue. Someone might rip it out of her one day if she doesn't watch herself."

"That's grotesque."

"Rich coming from you."

Judging by the look she was giving the clown up ahead of them, it didn't take him much time to deduce that she didn't have an affinity for them like most people did. Granted, he didn't enjoy them much either; all of that exaggerated make-up was enough to make him vomit, but Hayes looked like she loathed them intensively with a passion.

Suddenly, he spotted the Tozier boy, and she too did apparently. Hayes got up to her feet and said before she left, "By the way, if you want something good to drink, go for classic Cider. Much more drinkable and doesn't get you wasted before several bottles."

Ironically enough, Victor forgot all about the Corona at that moment.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own IT  
**

 **A/N: I just wish to announce that _Chapter 13: One day is worth two tomorrows_ , is not canon anymore to the story. I will delete it and everything which was contained in it will no longer remain relevant to the story. That means Cassie is not dead in the near future. I wrote that when I was experiencing a major writer's block and my dumbass thought that it would help me, but I realized that it just messed everything up. So, I repeat, chapter 13 will be deleted and everything that was contained in that chapter will not matter anymore.**

 **Thank you for your attention!**

* * *

 **Chapter 14: A Snake in the Grass**

* * *

The streets were filled with joy and cheering even before the group met up together near the alley by the pharmacy store. It was ironic, really, considering the large number of children that had gone missing over the course of the last weeks. No one seemed like they were worried, or at least wary of the recent disappearances. Having your existence easily forgotten as if you were a fly amongst many other equally-obnoxious insects wasn't a thought that comforted Cassie in the slightest. Being forgotten and discarded as though she was but a temporary and expendable object in a world filled with discord wasn't something she thought about often, but the thought nevertheless managed to sneak into her head on occasion.

When they stood there in the alley with missing posters on the brick walls, however, the thought didn't waste any time making its way into her mind. Even though it was over eighty degrees outside and raving hot in the air, chills went up and down her arms, causing goosebumps to erupt. Listening to Richie trying his best (and failing miserably) at playing the tuba belonging to one of the orchestra-members didn't put her mind at any ease either, though a chuckle did escape her. Readjusting her hat, Cassie reached forward to one of the missing posters and ripped it off the wall as to examine it closer. The face of a boy named Edward Corcoran, aged thirteen, had gained the misfortune of ending up with his picture on one of those posters.

"Who was he?" she asked and glanced over at Bill, curious as to get a suitable answer. Having not been in Derry for more than a couple of weeks in total, she lacked the necessary information regarding all of the inhabitants of the town. She swore she had seen this boy's face from somewhere before, possibly another poster from elsewhere in town, but she wasn't certain.

"He was a schoolmate," Stanley explained, growing increasingly pale. "They say they found part of his hand all chewed up near the Standpipe." That was all it took before Cassie put the poster back on the wall again, deciding that it would be best not to let his face become forgotten more than it already seemed like, judging by the careless and frivolous attitudes belonging to the rest of that godforsaken town. The thought of that hideous clown chewing on a piece of meat like a ravenous animal produced a gag-reflex that threatened to come into view, but she managed to conceal it just in time.

"He asked to borrow a pencil once," Ben added, not looking any less uneasy. Bill then flipped the picture of Edward Corcoran up and revealed the image of Betty Ripsom, the one whose mother showed up during the last day of school in desperate search of her daughter. Had she forgotten about her now? Had the memories of her child disappeared from the woman's mind by now? Was her existence nothing but a passing dream? Cassie didn't dare imagine a mother, someone who acknowledged themselves as such, forgetting their own child. Even though her own relationship with her mother was far from perfect, she couldn't imagine that Claudia would ever forget her so easily if she went missing.

Would she?

"I-It's like she's been f-forgotten because Corcoran's missing," Bill found it hard to pronounce the words required to build that sentence, but not due to his stuttering.

"Is it ever gonna end?" Stanley asked, but none of them answered.

Unbeknownst to her, at the time, Cassie could feel the anger radiating from her. Forgetfulness towards something like missing people wasn't excusable unless medical reasons were involved, like Alzheimer or dementia. Her grandfather on her father's side had received it due to his old age several years before he passed away, but he had always been able to recall her face in spite of his affliction. She was struck with melancholia when he died, and her father's dismissive attitude towards his death caused her to develop resentment towards him to a certain degree.

"In other words," she uttered slowly, weighing her words carefully before speaking. "She doesn't exist anymore."

"T-T-That's not wha- what I m-meant." Bill quickly said, feeling a weight drop on his chest. His mind wandered over to Georgie, who was still missing and nowhere to be found unless he took the initiative himself. His parents wouldn't, so who else would but him? Before he could say anything else, the sound of Richie poorly playing the tuba across the road caught the Hayes girl's attention and the promptly shifted her face away from Bill and to Richie, who had by now been deprived of the instrument by the orchestra-member and was less than pleased about it.

"Richie!" she yelled over at him, waving her arms exasperatedly over to him. "Quit the shit and come over here!" As Richie's attention was mildly shifted away from trying to fight over the right of the tuba over to the rest of the group, the orchestra-member seized the opportunity and snatched the instrument from the Tozier boy's grip. After a mild amount of swearing, the four-eyed boy gave up and made his way over to the rest of them, accompanied by Eddie who had just returned from purchasing himself and Richie some ice-cream. Under ordinary circumstances, Cassie wouldn't have minded anything sweet, but given their current surroundings, now was not the time to indulge in her sweet-tooth.

"What are you guys talking about?" Eddie asked and took a generous amount of his ice-cream and stuffed it into his mouth, but before anyone could answer his inquiry, Richie beat them to it with an attitude that didn't sound too enthusiastic. Not that anyone could criticize him for it. They weren't enthusiastic either.

"What they always talk about?" And with that, he snatched the other ice-cream from Eddie and started eating as well.

"I actually think it will end," Ben suddenly said, a glint of hope in his eyes. Everyone turned to him, equally curious as to what he was implying. "For a little while, at least."

Beverly raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Ben shifted in his stance, leaning a little more of his weight on one foot than the other whilst crossing his arms over his chest. He took a deep breath and it seemed as though the rest of the group mimicked this to a certain degree. Discussing anything even mildly associated with the monster that had plagued them all equally much. "So, I was going over all my Derry research, and I charted out all the big events. The ironwork-explosions in 1908, the Bradley Gang in '35, and the Black Spot in '62. And now kids being…." He paused for a brief moment, gathering his words before mustering the courage to speak them aloud. "I realized this stuff seems to happen-"

" _Every twenty-seven years."_ Bill and Ben said in unison, having reached the same conclusion. Cassie exchanged a quick look with Beverly, standing the closest to her, and they both mutually agreed that this had exceeded something neither of them expected. Though she never believed she would admit it out loud, Cassie was mildly hoping that they were all just insane and had yet to be locked up in an asylum. At least, it was preferable to them actually being pursued by some sort of … demonic entity. She wasn't a believer in the divine, but if there existed a shape-shifting monster that could take on the appearance of whatever someone feared the most, then the thought of some old guy up in the skies couldn't be too far-fetched, could it?

"So, let me get this straight," Cassie breathed out, feeling more irritated than frightened for some reason. "Out of all the years that I've been alive, this motherfucker decided to appear the very year my dumbass mom and dad decided to move us here?"

Ben shrugged and the rest of the group seemed to lighten up a little bit. "Pretty much," he said, not quite sure about wat to say. He wanted to move away now and grow forty somewhere else than this town, and given that he too just recently moved there, he concluded that the timing was far from perfect for him too.

Cassie sighed. They all knew that this wasn't going to end well for either of them, but admitting so out loud felt like a bold move. "Well, shit."

"Okay, so let me get this straight. "It comes out from wherever to eat kids for, like, a year? And then what? It just goes into hibernation?" Eddie was the first one to speak up after the group had relocated beneath the Paul Bunyan statue. Like always, the place was crowded primarily of children with toys, balloons, and were occupied with other frivolous activities. True enough, the weather was beautiful, it was the 4th of July, it was practically the ideal summer day. Had everything been different and they weren't being pursued by some outdated Ronald McDonald, the prospect of spending their time on said games did seem tempting.

However, they weren't that lucky. Whereas Richie, Eddie, and Bill were sitting by their bicycles, Bev, Stan, Mike, Ben, and Cassie were occupying the bench on their own. Cassie was sitting next to Bev on top of the bench's back, listening intently to where this was going, even though she didn't enjoy it any more than the rest of them did. It didn't help that a clown was standing on top of the stage not too far away from them, entertaining kids with balloons and whatnot. A knot of dread formed itself in her stomach but she tried to keep it hidden.

"Maybe it's like, what do you call it? Cicadas?" Stan suggested, looking at the rest of them. "You know, the bugs that come out once every seventeen years?"

"I would rather deal with a bug than whatever the fuck this asshole is." Cassie said sardonically, earning her a chuckle from Bev. "Then again, I suppose that's we have Richie for."

"Hey!" Richie exclaimed offended, to which she merely shrugged.

Mike, having remained silent for a long time now, finally decided that it was time to bring up his own tale from home. One that his grandfather had brought up on numerous occasions in the past for now reason but to scare him, or so he thought. "My grandfather thinks this town is cursed," he said, eyeing his surroundings. The rest of them were now staring sharply at him, mutually agreeing that, considering the recent disappearances and that clown, it wasn't too far from the truth. "He says that all the bad things that happen in this town are because of one thing."

"At least one of the grown-ups in this place has a brain," Cassie inputted, thinking thoroughly at those words. "Did he specify what, exactly, that thing was?"

"No," Mike shook his head, verifying a sharp no. "I always thought that he was just exaggerating. But he says that he thinks it's an evil thing that feeds off the people of Derry."

Stan seemed confused for a moment and turned to Mike, eyebrows raised. "But it can't be one thing." His eyes trailed over to the others. "We all saw something different." It was true. As soon as he said this, the others began to feel uneasy, more so than expected. Cassie's head was filled with the image of her mother slitting her own throat, the blood soaking the floor like rivers. But it didn't make any sense…. Why was that the thing she saw?

"Maybe." Mike agreed. "Or maybe It knows what scares us most and that's what we see."

At the mention of this, Cassie thought about what she had seen again. For the majority of her life, she had been the most terrified of clowns, ironically enough, so something didn't add up. With their exaggerated facial expressions, the paint covering their faces, those idiotic costumes that seemed like it just wanted to piss her off. That was the thing she was most terrified of, not…

Eddie hesitated before he spoke up. "I saw a leper," Chills were running up his forearms and leaving goosebumps, even in the blazing sun. The thought of that leper made him want to vomit. "He was like a walking infection." Cassie remembered the placebo pills which she had found with him, and a part of her regretted not telling him the truth then and there. In some way, she contributed to making his fear of inflictions and illnesses worse, but there was no time now to change it.

"But you didn't," Stan contradicted him. Everyone's eyes fell on top of him as if expecting an explanation. He proceeded. "Because it isn't real. None of this is. Not Eddie's leper, or Bill seeing Georgie, or the woman I keep seeing." His gaze fell to the ground with vehement discomfort.

"A woman?" Cassie looked at him in disbelief. Out of the entire group, she didn't imagine Stan being gynophobic, though the image of him screaming when seeing one did have her let out a vague and inaudible snicker.

"She hot?" Richie asked, an amused look in his eyes.

Stan, as well as the majority of everyone else, looked at him as though he couldn't be serious. "No, Richie! She's not hot!"

"Of course, she couldn't be," Cassie let out, putting both of her arms behind her head with a carefree attitude. "If he had been afraid of beautiful girls, he wouldn't have been able to stick around long enough to be acquainted with either Bev or me. Maybe you too to an extent, Four-Eyes."

Eddie burst out into laughter and smiles began to show up with everyone else as well. It felt good to have the mood a little up, even under such dire circumstances. However, when Stan continued describing the woman in such gruesome details, mutual silence befell them and resulted in their lack of liveliness once more. "Her face is all messed up." He struggled to speak again after saying such. His facial features were inflicted with dread and fear, something they all had experienced recently. "None of this makes any sense. They're all like… Bad dreams."

"Bad dreams can't just jump into reality and start attacking us," Cassie intervened, shaking her head at his suggestion.

"That's true," Mike agreed, turning to Stan. "I know the difference between a bad dream and real life, okay?" None of them really had to guess about where this was coming from. They had all experienced something strange, something horrible, but whether or not it truly was a fragment of reality or their own minds was something they couldn't quite debunk just yet. Mike, however, seemed to take into personal account the words he had said and none of them remained oblivious towards this. They all turned to glance at him, curious.

"What'd you see? You saw something too?" Eddie asked, knowing fully well that asking someone about their worst fears would be considered inconsiderate, but they all had to know. Mike had yet to disclose what he had seen to the rest of them, as had Cassie. She, however, wasn't feeling in the mood of discussing the dreadful sight which unfolded in her own home that day. She wished to tell them all, sure, but as she looked down at her hands, the words struggled to form themselves inside of her. Letting the others speak first about their encounter would perhaps make it much easier for her to admit it.

"Yes," Mike admitted, growing vague in response. He felt a heavy weight on his chest as he recalled what had happened that day so many years ago, and how seeing it once more did little to ease anything. "Do you guys know that burned-down house on Harris Avenue?" When none objected against the knowledge, Cassie took that as her cue to keep silent and listen, even though she didn't know the location of that said house. "I was inside when it burned down."

He briefly paused, closing his eyes. "Before I was rescued, my mom and dad were trapped in the next room over from me. They were pushing and pounding on the door, trying to get to me." He hesitated again before continuing, the pain visible even though his face revealed no emotions. "But it was too hot. When the firemen finally found them, the skin on their hands had melted down to the bone." He glanced up at them again. "We're all afraid of something."

The sound of crackers wheezing behind them had them all shift their heads back towards the stage where that dreaded clown stood in a crowd of children. "Got that right," Richie said and eyed the ugly clown discomfortingly, to which the clown turned to him and reached a balloon-animal towards him.

Another knot materialized itself in Cassie's stomach and she quickly turned around and away from the clown. "Ugly fucker," she cursed to herself, but fortunately none heard her.

However, they all noticed Richie's uneasiness. "Why, Rich? What are you afraid of?"

Richie was silent for a moment, something none of them expected, and then readjusted his glasses over the bridge of his nose. "Clowns."

"You're afraid of clowns?" Cassie asked and jumped off the bench and to her feet. "Isn't that ironic? What exactly did you see?"

"I saw the clown, alright?" Richie snapped, though with no real hostility or malice. "It stood there outside my house, waving at me with hands that looked like they belonged to Stan after tickling his–"

" _Alright_ , enough." Stan quickly said, sounding vaguely embarrassed. "But what did it do to you? Did it say anything?"

Richie shook his head. "No, it just fucking stood there and waved at me from the front of my house, grinning. It didn't say shit, that's all it did. When I tried getting my mom to look at it, the crackhead was gone."

"Consider yourself lucky, then," Cassie said, feeling a little irritable all of the sudden. "At least you didn't see your currently missing sibling, or a bathroom full of blood, or some kind of nasty-looking hag." If that clown could take the shape of whatever they feared the most, then there was probably no limit to what kind of extent It would reach. Cassie reached for her hat and took it off, letting her dark hair into the sun. She turned to the others. "But we still don't know shit about it. Why does it appear every twenty-seven years? Where is it now? Why doesn't anyone seem to notice all of these disappearances? Why the hell does It use a name like Bob Gray–"

"Bob Gray?" Eddie asked curiously. "Who is Bob Gray?"

"Apparently, that's another name It goes by."

"You saw It?"

"Twice."

"What did you see?" Beverly asked.

Cassie opened her mouth to answer the Marsh girl's inquiry, believing that she would be ready to speak about the experience. However, no sound escaped her and she abruptly adverted her eyes to the ground. "I saw the clown too," she admitted, and although that wasn't the entire thing, she wasn't lying. "He called himself Bob Gray and looked just like any wannabe-clown with balloons and all. It wasn't until I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach that I knew something wasn't right, so I bolted."

"He didn't do anything to you."

"….. No."

"L-Look," Bill stuttered, stepping off his bike. "I-I've noticed s-something that s-seems connected to this."

"What is it?" Ben asked.

"I-If we all get to me, I can- I can show you."

They all agreed then and there to meet up at his place. It was time to figure out a way to end this.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own IT**

 **A/N: So, over six months with no update. This is where I come with an apology, a long one, about why I have neglected my duties as a writer. I'm deeply sorry for my absence in this story. As of recently, I had yet another major writer's block and I've recently gotten a job that's kept me preoccupied for some time. However, now that I've received fewer shifts and now that I've gotten to the more exciting part of the story, I may find it easier now to continue without such large gaps.**

 **I hope you can all forgive me and I hope the next chapter won't be in too long.**

 **Thank you so much for your support and I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

 **\- W.W**

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Knuckle Down**

* * *

The sun was shining, the sky didn't have a cloud in sight, children were laughing and participating in the numerous games that were available, parents were enjoying themselves with their daily round of gossip, and people were eating and drinking to their heart's content and with no disregard for the physical consequences such gluttony would inflict on them.

Cassie sighed as she heard them all have a good time, slightly envying them for enjoying themselves in a time like this, but at the same time, she pitied them for their ignorance. It was a scary thing: bliss. Under other circumstances, some people would have agreed that some things are not worth knowing, but these were different kinds of circumstances. Even though over a dozen kids had disappeared with barely any trace, people were still as joyful as ever.

Not that she could really blame them. It was hard to imagine that their lives were at peril at the moment, much less because of a clown that was lurking in the sewers and offering people balloons before It would eat them. Right now, nothing indicated that something was amiss. The sun was shining, the flowers were blooming, people were laughing.

Laughter. She couldn't quite recall the last time she properly laughed.

"You okay there, Cass?" Beverly asked from above, staring down at the face which was currently being covered by a hat. The Hayes girl was lying flat on top of one of the benches, having grown tired over the course of the last few hours.

Before they would all meet up at Bill's place, they had decided to spend this day fulfilling their own hearts' content just in case it would be their last day alive. Therefore, whereas Bill and Stan had gone to meet up with their families nearby and Eddie and Richie had gone to try some of the games, Cassie, Beverly, and Mike decided to try to relax, even though they were miserably failing at it. Though they seemed calm and collected on the outside, there was no doubt that turmoil was slowly increasing inside of each of them at the prospect of what was soon about to happen.

Cassie sat up and took her head of her face and back onto her head again. "M'kay," she spoke tiredly, rubbing her forehead. "I just got a little dizzy from being so much in the sun. Makes my head kill me sometimes."

"Like a migraine?" Bev inquired curiously.

Cassie shrugged, not quite sure of what to call it. She'd experienced migraines in the past and although this one wasn't quite so strong, it no doubt left her in utter agony for the time being. "No, I don't think so. It tends to come and go from time to time. I didn't get it while we were bathing, so it's quite unpredictable." She groaned and lowered her head, feeling it the pain increase as if on cue. "Jesus."

"Not that I would recommend it, but I've heard that drinking something strong sometimes help to ease the pain a bit." For the first time in a long time, Mike had finally said something, earning him the confused stares of both the girls on the other bench.

"Something strong?" Cassie asked, her hand still placed on top of her head. "Like something bitter or….?"

"My grandpa says that when he sometimes gets a headache from working too much in the barn, he takes a shot from a bottle of whiskey and it numbs the pain a bit." As he explained this, Mike held up an imaginary glass and shot it. "At least for him to be able to work again without having to worry about it."

Cassie and Beverly shared a look of skepticism before the latter stared at Mike with an equally skeptical look. "I don't think that's quite a good idea. Isn't alcohol usually what triggers a headache to begin with?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. Never tried it myself."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Cassie replied and put her hand down on her knee. "I don't really feel like drinking at the moment."

There was a moment of silence.

"You _drink_?" Bev asked, visibly flabbergasted by this.

Cassie gave her a nonchalant look, but rubbed the back of her head with the hand she had just lowered. A sheepish look came over her as she did this. "Well…. There was this one time my friend Nathan managed to steal a few bottles of Corona from his father's stash. Long story short, by the end of the evening, we were unable to walk a straight line on the way home."

It wasn't a proud moment in her life, to say the least. What little she could remember from the night was that she had to sneak up the stairs past her parents' room and plop down on the bed like a mess. The next morning, her mother had given her a strict lesson for coming home past curfew, but at least she hadn't known about the drinking.

If that was the case, Cassie doubted she'd still be alive to the present. But a headache was enough to kill her then, and it sure as hell seemed enough to kill her now.

"If I die from this shit," Cassie said and gestured to her head. "Let me be known as someone great."

Both Bev and Mike placed a hand over their chest.

"You'll be remembered for being a good friend." Bev said.

"You'll be remembered for your wits," Mike added.

"Your attitude."

"Your intellect."

"Your hat."

"Your lack of manners."

"Your cynicism."

"Strange clothing."

"Say what now?"

" _And for being a fucking wiener_!"

Cassie gritted her teeth. "Shut up, _Toss_ -ier! Nobody asked you!"

She frowned as Richie made his way towards her, both hands occupied with ice cream and with Eddie walking beside him. Had she not known any better, she might have mistaken them for a couple.

Trying her best to ignore the throbbing in her skull, Cassie jumped up to her feet and punched Richie in the shoulder, giving him a playful grin as she quickly snatched one of the ice-cream cones from his hand.

Beverly blurted out a laugh as she witnessed Richie produce one of the most flabbergasted expressions in history, and Mike's lips went up to a smile as well. Eddie proceeded to snatch the other ice cream whilst Richie was briefly distracted, and just as the Tozier boy was about to snap around, he licked the ice-cream, marking his possession of the dessert.

"DUDE!" He called out, earning him little more than a mischievous look from his friend, who was gobbling down the ice by now. "NOT COOL!"

"It's called 'Karma', _Toss_ -ier." Cassie mocked him, licking her own ice-cream without looking away from him. "You get what you give, even if it's not a lot."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're a fucking loser."

"That makes no sense!"

"Like your personality."

"ALRIGHT! GUYS!" Eddie had to break them up, because if there was one thing that the Kaspbrak boy feared, it was that the usual bickering between two of his friends would turn anything but verbal.

However, much to his relief, the glaring children took a step away from one-another before things could escalate, although they continued to look sourly at each other. It was the best of two bad situations, Eddie assumed, although it did warrant a smile from him.

On cue, both Richie and Cassie began to grin as well, resulting in them throwing an arm over each other's shoulders as though the earlier argument between them had never happened to begin with. The way they acted so natural with each other, Eddie might have mistaken them for a couple.

But for some reason, that thought left him with a heavy weight in his chest. But instead of verbalizing it, he merely smiled and said, "Hey guys! How about we try…."

* * *

As he sat there by the seat beneath an Oaktree in the park, Victor could practically feel sweat running down him. He had never been very fond of the unbearable heat, but he didn't have a saying in whether it would be bad or not. In truth, he shouldn't complain. He didn't much care for the winter either. The only fun he got from that was being able to stuff kids into the snow and leave them there to be late for class.

He took a sip from the drink he had purchased from Greggory not too long ago. Although it wasn't as effective in rendering him light-headed as a Corona would, it wasn't too bad either way. The Cider was cool, not bad-tasting, and had him able to walk properly without the need for support. Under ordinary occasions, he would've loved to get drunk in an afternoon with Henry or Belch, but for some reason, solitude was preferable.

"Mommy! What's that boy over there drinking? Can I get some too?"

Victor raised his head slightly as he heard the voice of a young boy address him a few feet away, pulling at his mother's arm and pointing inquisitively at him as though he was an animal kept in a zoo.

The mother cast Victor just a single look before her face turned into a look of disgust, and she quickly ushered her boy away without giving him a proper response. It didn't bother Vic in the slightest. His reputation in town as a local bully and delinquent didn't leave much for the imagination about what kind of person he was. Hell, his own mother often gave him the same disgusted looks as that woman did.

But Victor knew he couldn't blame her. Even despite the frequent arguments he initiated with her, she was his mother and worked hard to support them after his father bolted and never came back. He always hated the bastard for that, but Victor was no better when he was there drinking and complaining about everything like a little sissy.

He had lost count over how many times the principal had called in his mother for a meeting in order to discuss his behavior at school. Whether it was for pulling up a sissy's underwear or stealing someone else's lunch-money, he could care less. Heck, he hated the damned place just as much as he hated the town in general. But it was the look in his mother's eyes that often had him regret his behavior, if just for a little bit. He couldn't stand it if someone were disappointed in him, because that meant that they held expectation for him.

His mother's looks of disappointment were regular occurrences. It often surprised him that she was still hoping that he would improve and do some good. When was she going to realize that simply giving up on him would do her some good for once?

His teachers' disappointment with him and his (lack) of educational advancement was only a result of the fact it went out on their paycheck. If one student was unruly beyond their control, it only meant that they weren't doing a good enough job. It would threaten their reputation and their paycheck.

And then there was the Hayes girl...

Victor gritted his teeth before he proceeded to take another sip of his drink, feeling bitterness creep up on him like an insect. He didn't understand why, but that day by the river had left him with a heavy weight in his stomach, one that not even downing three gallons of vodka could wash away. Since when did the opinion of some fucked-up girl-next-door matter to him more than that of his own mother?

It didn't.

…. It shouldn't have.

IT DIDN'T.

"Hey, Marsh! I challenge you to "test your strength"! Think you're up for it or are you gonna chicken out?"

"You're on, Hayes!"

"Wanna give it a try, Stan! Or are you gonna take your bird-exploring a little too far and turn into a chicken? _BWAP!_ BWAPBWAP _!"_

"Shut up, Richie!"

"Well, are you? Or are you gonna… _BWAPBWAPBWAAAAAAP!"_

"FINE! Watch me, trash-mouth!"

"I will!"

Victor glanced up for a moment, following the voices he heard passing by. There was the group of Losers walking, everyone but Denborough present. Even the Marsh girl was there, smiling and laughing with the rest of them.

They were walking towards the "Test your strength" game. He hadn't tried it himself yet, but it did seem like… fun, he supposed.

Maybe he could…

His eyes suddenly snapped to the edge of the park and he could see two figures he didn't expect to see right now. And they just happened to be walking towards the Losers with suspicious looks in their eyes. He could spot the malevolence from a mile away.

Victor knew this would most likely not end well. But it wasn't his problem.

Even so, despite himself, he got to his feet, unsure of what he was about to do.

It wasn't until he noticed the cops standing there that he got a slight idea of how the situation might escalate.

* * *

"So, you simply strike it with this hammer on the bell as hard as you can?"

"Yeah, it doesn't get any easier than that! Didn't they have games like this up North?"

"They did! I just never went to the parade that often! Damn, what a nuisance."

Cassie reached for the handle of the hammer, feeling its heavy weight. To say that it was just a little heavy would be the underestimation of the century, as she could feel her arms struggle to maintain the weight she was putting in her grip. However, she refused to be shown as weak in the Tozier boy's presence. Her pride wouldn't allow her to fall that far, regardless of the circumstances.

She was many things, but a pussy wasn't one of them.

With all her might, Cassie raised the hammer above her head, struggling not to fall over as the weight threatened to tip her over. Throwing a smug look over to Beverly, she returned her focus back to the bell and prepared to smack it down as hard as she coul –

"Well, if it isn't the Losers?"

Cassie felt her anger block her hearing and her hammer fell straight to the ground, but it had not hit its intended target as she anticipated. Instead, it went straight for the grass, leaving behind a significant mark she doubted would disappear anytime soon.

But she could care less about that at the moment. Currently, the thing she wanted to hit with a hammer was standing less than a few feet away from the group.

And that certain thing was none other than Henry – _fucking_ – Bowers. Sure, Belch was there as well, but he didn't even have half of the same malicious glee in his eyes as Bowers did. It may not have been of much comfort, but it was relieving to know that there were only the two of them there.

They were in a public place after all, and with hundreds of peering eyes, an act of violence on such a sacred day would not go easily unnoticed. But seeing only Bowers and Belch there, it made her wonder why Criss was nowhere in sight….

"What the fuck do you want?" Richie demanded the answer as the POS approached them, and although he tried to sound cold and aggressive, there was fear present as he talked. For each step Bowers took towards them, it sure made the rest of them want to increase the distance between them and him.

"It's the Parade, isn't it?" Bowers asked and raised his arms, his eyes twitching ever-so-slightly. "It's mandatory for youngsters to attend. Ain't that right?"

"Since when did you care for celebrations, Henry?" Beverly asked, succeeding in sounding more confident and composed than Richie. However, there was no mistaking that she didn't find his presence to be unnerving.

"Come on, guys. Let's just leave." Eddie tried to persuade them, already reaching forward and tugging on Richie's arm. Unfortunately, hostility had already been officially established. None of them seemed too keen on leaving now, not with any loose threads lingering about.

Even Mike was looking torn between bolting and confronting, and that was saying something. Looking at it, his anger was understandable, as Eddie imagined few people would enjoy having their face planted into a piece of rotting meat.

Bowers smirked as his lecherous eyed the Marsh girl. "Surely a whore like you would know all about what some people do during celebrations. Thought I'd get some myself–

What happened next caused quite a bit of commotion. The next thing anyone knew, both Mike and Stan had to hold back Hayes as she was stomping holes in the ground in an attempt to reach him with the hammer tucked beneath her fingers. Despite the weight, it seemed less difficult for her to carry it then.

" _What did you say, asshole!"_ she spat through gritted teeth, her eyes sharpened to the point where they resembled the tip of a knife. Even with both Stan and Mike holding her arms and preventing her from getting much closer, it was evident that they were finding it difficult to contain her much longer.

If looks could kill, Bowers and Belch would already have been rendered puddles of blood on the ground by now.

Though Bowers kept himself in control, nervousness was traceable amongst Belch's features upon witnessing the Hayes girl's moment of uncontrollable outburst. A few inches or so more, and they risked having pieces of their faces torn off. She was practically biting after them like a rabid beast, and it wasn't too far from the truth.

She was no pet.

"Did I hit a nerve?" Bowers taunted, earning him a glare from each and every one in the Losers' club. "I'm just saying it as it is."

By this time, Cassie had already successfully managed to snap her right arm out of Mike's hold and reach forward. By some miracle, she grabbed a fistful of Bowers' hair and yanked him as hard as she could before he could jump out of her reach.

He let out a hollering scream as he felt the roots at his scalp threaten to get ripped off. As he regained his stance, he threw a punch her way and successfully hit her straight in the nose. Though a grunt was heard coming from her on impact and blood was visibly starting to stream down her nostrils.

But despite this, she didn't let go of him.

By that time, the rest of them were hollering at them to stop and visibly trying to pry them off each other. With Belch wrapping his arms around Bowers' waist and Richie and Beverly grabbing each of their friend's arms, both parts were determined to stop the chaos from escalating further.

Several heads were turned their way as the fighting began to reach strangers' ears. The Hayes girl was visibly struggling to match the Bowers boy's strength, considering how he was significantly stronger than her, but her sheer stubbornness alone made up for that.

Though she was able to dodge the majority of his punches, some were inevitable. It was at that point she could thank her mother for her light physique, even if it granted her little physical prowess.

Just as she was about to throw another hit at him, Bowers proceeded to vigorously push her down to the ground and get on top of her. He started to continuously aim for her face, almost knocking her out several times and causing immense bruises to form. Her nose was covered in blood and so were her lips.

Shielding her face with her arms only granted her so much protection, if not hardly anything. But in spite of that, as well as the unbearable weight he forced upon her abdomen, she did not stop throwing her punches at him. Few of them hit their target, but the few that did, filled her with satisfaction.

She wanted to bash his teeth in, crack his skull, give him a taste of his own medicine. This was karma, after all. She wasn't doing anything bad in hindsight. This was like the day at the river, when she wanted to beat his head in with a rock.

How she wished she had a rock at her disposal.

The urge to beat him senselessly filled her with adrenaline.

Again and again, she continued to fight him despite the fact that he had the upper hand. Her fists struck him again and again, his chest and his feat countless of times.

This did not help relieve her off her headache.

Not.

At.

All.

But she could care less.

The fucker had it coming.

Unfortunately, it didn't last too long.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"

Before anyone could properly acknowledge what was going on, Cassie watched as Bowers got pulled off from her and Beverly rushed to her side and grabbed her arm, helping her up to her feet. Covering her nose with her palm, she quickly turned to Bowers' general direction.

"What the…."

There was a cop standing there, looking maliciously down at the bloodied and bruised Bowers. She had initially expected someone like Bowers to spit at the cop and express his disrespect for the law.

However, much to her surprise, he seemed genuinely terrified. His eyes were glued to the ground and his hands were knotted together, shaking like he was facing the devil himself.

Before she could linger long enough to ask anything, she felt Richie pull her arm and force her away. "Get your ass in gear before the cops show!"

* * *

"So, you're telling me that that cop was Bowers' old man – _OUCH_!" she yanked her face back as Eddie plastered some kind of sanitized band-aid on top of her forehead where Bowers had successfully managed to leave behind a pretty cut.

Eddie grew exasperated as he continuously tried to patch her up, but her non-stop moving around didn't do much to help him.

They had relocated to a bench in the outskirts from the park, far away from the crowd. In hindsight, it may not have been the best decision to make. However, none of them really cared much anymore.

The Hayes girl held a rag to her nose to stop her bleeding, and her wounds were being attended to by their elected hypochondriac, with a couple of bruises here and there and a blue eye to accompany her face.

Long story short, she looked like _shit_.

"Yeah, that's Butch Bowers." Mike confirmed with evident disdain in his voice. "But don't let that badge fool you. He's maybe worse than his son."

"Yeah, I heard that they don't get along too well with your family." Cassie scratched the back of her head. "Couple of fuckers, the lot of them."

Suddenly, Beverly swatted her across the head, earning her a confused look from Hayes.

"Why did you go pick a fight with him, idiot? You could have been seriously hurt."

Cassie scoffed and got to her feet. "In case you failed to notice, I don't allow idiots like him to talk shit in front of me. Especially not about …"

She failed to finish her sentence, as if the wind had stolen her tongue. Cassie covered her mouth and let out a couple of coughs before she spoke again, ignoring the inquisitive looks from the others. "Anyway, how did the cops know where the fight was occurring?"

"You were in a public place," Ben said. "It wouldn't have been long before someone noticed eventually."

"People notices a fight between kids but not kids disappearing into thin air." She raised an eyebrow. "Color me surprised."

She grinned childishly, displaying her teeth to her friends.

"If this is one of our last days alive, I want to cherish it. What better way to do it than beat up that dipshit, right?"

Beverly gave her an unimpressed look. "Violence is hardly a goal in life."

"But it was Henry Bowers." Cassie pouted.

At this, the majority of them nodded their heads in unison, agreeing on the prospect of that asshole receiving his due.

"Good point."

"But now," Stan sighed. "Now there are new things for us to deal with. Things we might not return from."

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Shit." Richie mumbled. "Way to ruin the moment."


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own IT**

 **A/N: _WHAT IS UP, MY DUDES! FINALLY, I am so happy with this chapter, you have no idea. After a half year of almost no writing at all, I feel like I've finally been able to come up with the most productive chapter on this story I've had in a while. I recently watched IT - Chapter Two and, *spoiler alert* I loved it! They had stuck to the novel so well, though some details still didn't come to the screen. One thing I recalled being a little pissed about was the lack of Maturin, but I still loved the movie regardless. The scene with Adrian Mellon was so sad but so good. It was after watching the movie that I decided that it was time to get my shit together and continue._**

 ** _While I have not read the entire novel yet, I still plan on basing it primarily off both that, though the movie will serve as its main setting._**

 ** _Also, note that in the first part of this chapter, IT is referred to as a Glamour. I searched it up, but did not get any answer. However, considering how it is a synonymous word for "Illusion," I believe it is also synonymous with Dead Lights. Just a few heads up for that one in case you were confused._**

 ** _I've begun planning for Chapter Two, and I've decided that, with some deliberation, it will be Vera Farmiga who will be the face-claim for adult Cassie Hayes. Considering how Vera Farmiga is the older sister of Taissa Farmiga, the face-claim for fourteen-year-old Cassie, I found it to be a perfect fit._**

 ** _Blog:_** _www . Wood - White - Writer . Tumblr . com_

* * *

 **Chapter 16: Fear Is Worse Than The Ordeal Itself**

* * *

 _Winter's grasp; cold and unnerving to the touch. It had already claimed the lives of one-third of the children in the town of Derry, as well as half as many adults. That could, however, not the cold season not be credited for. Certainly, the temperature served as a contributing factor behind a handful of the deaths that had taken place, but there was something else lurking in the shadows of Derry Township which few - if anyone - knew the existence of._

 _Maybe it would have been for the best if they remained ignorant towards the Glamour. A town filled with fear-stricken people would seldom lead to anything good, especially considering how it would only further Its attraction towards them. Fear was such a subjective concept, one she had scarcely understood herself, but she knew of it well enough to comprehend the kind of effects it could have on humans and animals alike._

 _It would make them act spontaneously without adding ration to the occasion, leave victims petrified to the point of paralysis, make a mother willing to abandon her children, and make a father willing to kill them. It would make them run, hide, seek shelter where there could be found none, pursue any means necessary in order for a glimpse of relief to show itself for them._

 _While she had witnessed those reactions countless times before, she had never been able to understand it herself. She had never experienced any of these impulsive sensations. Not the chills on her skin caused by anything but the low temperatures, not the sudden urge to run away, not inability to sleep in the night. None of those things had made themselves apparent to her. **Fear** , it was something she knew nothing of, despite knowing everything about it._

 _But she knew one thing;_ _ **It**_ _relished in it. What all living things found disastrous and distasteful, It exploited it for its own gain as a means to provide flavor to the flesh. A parasitic exchange, one-sided benefits. It would hunt them all, one after the other, wasting time inflicting them with the savory sensation of fear before ultimately disposing of them._

 _She had seen it before, countless times. She had seen three-hundred humans die in front of her, eyes ripped from their sockets, blood gurgling from their mouths like pipes overflowing with water. They had killed each other with anything they could get their hands on; axes, branches, their own fists. They had strangled each other, maimed their bodies, skinned them alive, eaten their friends, their wives, their husbands, their children._

 _They had all been killed – KILLED EACH OTHER – because they had been consumed with_ _ **F E A R.**_

 _But that was long ago. The few people who survived the ordeal somehow managed to reestablish the town of Derry, but she had not been around to witness it herself. She had been killed alongside those three-hundred people, with the last image she recalled being an ax raised above her head. It all went dark for what felt like a mere moment before she escaped her new mother's womb, screaming her lungs out due to the pain that still lingered at the top of her head._

 _Her Creator had made her existence a reoccurring one. One for each time the Glamour would return to wreak havoc on that unfortunate town that had been her home for the past centuries. And each time she had been born there, she would die not long afterward. Something would always be there to orchestrate her demise, and with something, she meant the Glamour. It would be there, killing her in one way or the other._

 _Her death, although it served a purpose, was inconvenient nonetheless. While she would always respawn decades later in the blink of an eye, she knew each existence would be short-lived. After all, she only had one purpose in life, and in living very brief time and time again, she fulfilled it each time._

 _Even so, while she never relished the thought of her own demise, she still wished to experience what humans called Life. She had been born again and again, died again and again, had a mother and often a father too, even siblings, yet she could never quite understand what made them function the way they did. She had tried asking her Creator the same question time and time again, but he seldom gave her the answer she sought._

 **"** _ **You will understand,"** was all he would tell her._

 _And so, she waited._

* * *

 _Once again, her mother had sent her out in order to retrieve wood for the night. Although it was near pitch-black outside, there was still just enough sun left to make out the shape of the woods. She had been reluctant at first, primarily because she knew what lurked out there, but she had nonetheless complied. This mother was a strict one who was willing to resort to the use of the fire poker if she was defied. Like all the other people, this mother had been indifferent to the incident that had occurred earlier that year, when John Markson poisoned his entire family before killing himself with the same substance. It had caused quite a stir earlier on that year, but not long after, people forgot. They always did._

 _The temperature outside was cold and unyielding, reminding her that winter was on their heel. The further into the woods she ventured, the darker the skies turned and the colder the air grew. And so, without wasting time, she gathered as much wood as her basket could carry. Not intending to die again, her intentions were merely to get the wood and return to the house._

 _That was until she could spot drops of crimson liquid on the ground, leaving behind a prominent trail that was almost begging her to follow._

 _She already knew what this meant, and so she dropped the basket on the ground and pursued the bloody trail further into the forest. The air seemed to grow deathly still, even though the trees were swaying and the leaves were rustling. The further into the forest she went, the more visible and frequent the blood became. The sound of crunching soon became audible to her ears, reminding her of branch snapping frequently on an interval._

 _Already apathetic regarding Its endeavor, she made no attempt at keeping her steps inaudible. Her feet left behind loud noises, which she immediately knew would gain Its attention, as limited as it was whenever It was feasting. As expected, the crunching sound from the short distance abruptly came to a halt, though the shadow of a predatory growl replaced the silence._

 _She soon found that the sounds came from within the Well-house, one that was as ancient as the town itself was. It was a place that was practically demolished, with its walls being carved from the roughest of stones that were on the verge of falling together. The trail of blood led into the open hole in the wall, and she swore she could see torn and tarnished clothes discarded outside of it._

 _Then, a figure came into view from the shadows, one she had seen once or twice before already. White clothes that blended almost completely with Its skin, orange hair in an unordinary fashion, and a menacing smile that was drenched in blood and pieces of meat. A carcass laid rotting in its mouth, even though the body seemed quite fresh. A young boy's body hung from its jaws like a deer in the mouth of a lion._

" _You truly are a sloppy creature," she stated, not raising her voice in the slightest to get Its attention._

 _Because she already had it._

 _The Glamour snapped Its eyes to hers, and for what felt like longer than it truly was, their eye-contact maintained contact. She recalled those yellow orbs in Its gaze, how they could kill or render anyone catatonic if you looked straight into them._

 _With the young boy's deceased body still dangling from Its mouth for another moment, it was dropped to the ground. The clown stood up, straightening Its back almost entirely, bent it backward, then forward with its arms dangling forward like dead weight. It smiled benevolently her way, as though expecting her to fall victim for Its façade like all the other children in town did._

" _Who are you?" It asked, almost successfully concealing the hunger that reeked of It. It drew Its sleeves over Its mouth and giggled, though the faintest tug on Its grin revealed antipathy._

" _We've met before," she answered, not understanding the purpose of Its question. "You already know the answer to your inquiry, so why do you ask?"_

 _Its eyes glowed again, a mixture of disdain and interest perking. "Oh, I know it's_ _ **you**_ _. I was merely asking because you have changed again." It let out deafening laughter that would put even the supposed 'Devil' to shame. "And still, after all this time, that lazy, old Turtle still thinks I'm that dumb. But tell me, how's Maturin nowadays? Still old and weary, yes?"_

 _The girl said nothing, just standing there like the finest porcelain doll on display. Another trait It could never stand was the way she was unable to be read. Like a book without ink, just the blank pages._

 _Nevertheless, It persisted with Its inquiries, circling around the child with longing and irritation, trying Its best to conceal the way It felt upon knowing that consuming her was seldom satisfying. "Quite honestly, it's a shock that the Tower hasn't collapsed yet. I almost expected him to crush under the pressure, that lazy Turtle. Seems like he's holding on a little longer than I anticipated from him. How's it there these days?"_

 _"My purpose does not depend on the All-Worlds, so the Tower is none of my concern. My place is here, as it has always been."_

 _"Yes, yes, yes, it always is," It rasped through gritted teeth, stopping in Its tracks. "I assume that the old Fool is just as lazy as he always has been; sleeping in his shell while everything around him goes about, even at peril,"_

" _Unlike you, he does not underestimate his opponents,"_

" _But he must, sweet thing, he_ _ **must**_ _. He also seems to overestimate himself, too." It mocked menacingly, placing a hand on Its chest and feigning what she could only describe as sadness._

 _It suddenly began to cry and sob, bowing down Its head until Its eyes were out of view like he was greeting royalty with too much sentiment. "He calls himself a benevolent creature when he sends a broken porcelain doll with no life and no fear for me to eat and maim as I please, over and over again so that he may see if I've changed? It's sooo sad,"_

 _She remained unmoved by this display of mockery, standing there with her hands tucked behind her back. "I am not the only one who has changed," she digressed, ignoring his pettiness. "What name do you take now? Does it remain Robert Gray? Or something else?"_

 _On cue, the creature straightened Itself from Its bowing position and it bent backward in an inhuman angle, looking as though Its intent was to break Its own vertebrae (even though it would most likely not inflict any lingering harm). It then bowed forward again, and took a sharp step towards her, mimicking several exaggerated facial expressions as It moved._

" _My name is, and has always been, **Pennywise the Dancing Clown** , my dear," It threw Its arms up in the air and bowed down in a mockery courteous position. "Always a pleasure to see you again. How I've missed you **SO SO SO SO SO** much. I've longed for your company for the past twenty-seven years,"_

 _It outstretched Its hand towards her with an inhuman length, but she did not make the gesture a mutual one. She merely stared at Its hand, her eyes trailing up Its arm to Its shoulder and finally back to Its face. She studied everything from the way Its face seemed heavily powdered with smashed chalk to the two red lines that descended down his eyes. Scarlet adorned Its nose as well, making Its appearance eerily appropriate to itself._

 _The way It mimicked the appearance of a human was almost … fascinating. However, behind Its inhumanely large teeth, the fangs that had claimed her existence numerous times before came into view._

" _In the end," she stated calmly. "You will cease,"_

 _Angered, Its hand suddenly latched onto her throat, forcing her above ground with a considerable length between her dangling feet and the dead dirt beneath her. Its nails began to pierce through the skin of her neck, drawing warmth from the veins inside of her. The urge to scream or fight, which she had seen countless times before on countless people, never struck her even once. She was motionless in Its grip, as though she was already_ _ **D E A D**_ _._

 _If It wanted to, It could already kill her, by why waste it doing it so quickly when there were so many unique ways to dispose of her? It had made the people of this town burn her for witchcraft, torn her limb from limb, gouged out her entrails, feasted on her flesh while she was still alive and breathing. It was all tedious, so why not try something else?_

 _Eating her was always distasteful because the lack of fear made it dull to consume. But It would make an exception this time. It sniffed her neck, trying to deduce if there was even the slightest trait of any sweet, sweet fear, yet found none._

 _It was disappointing, no doubt about that. Still, It shrugged it off with a laugh._

" _The old fool hasn't changed," It sneered, stretching out Its free arm as claws began to grow to an Inhuman length. Much to Its chagrin, the brat's face remained as non-expressive as it usually did. No salty scent of fear as always, and it INFURIATED It beyond reason._

 _It placed the claws inched away from the girl's eyes, grinning. "You're his eyes, so how about I rid you of that burden for a while?" It leaned closer to her face. "Say 'Hi' to the Turtle for me." And with that, It proceeded to pierce the sockets with Its sharp claws, relishing in the way the body in Its grip began to turn and twitch as the blood began to descend from her face and to the ground. While It could hear no scream or scent which indicated that she was afraid, It relished in what little it could get. The warm blood pooled down and drenched Its claws, filling It further with ecstasy._

 _Killing something that was directly created by the Turtle was the closest thing It could describe as feeling victorious. Not only did it make that no good and old Turtle move for once, but it pained him. Oh, how it pained him to lose something he considered to be his direct offspring. Such a sweet sensation it was to be able to rip that sentiment off his shell time and time again._

 _After all, It knew **she** would be **back** , one way or the other, and It would be there to greet her – TO KILL HER – time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and time and_ _ **time**_ _ **again!**_

 _ **One day, It would have her. It would have her fear. It would have her scream properly.**_

 _ **It would have her.**_

* * *

Bill's home was in a remote part of the town, much like Cassie's own home. Neighbors who, although occasionally peeked through the curtains, remained indifferent towards what a group of children was intending on doing that afternoon. In a sense, it was convenient for ignorance to plague the town, but not if it meant that they would disappear without anyone batting their eyes.

But Bill's home, despite being lit up by the warm sun, seemed … empty. Hollow. From an ordinary perspective, it would look just like any Victorian home with two or three floors and the most mundane paint covering its exterior. However, upon inspecting it closer, Cassie saw that there was no warmth in that home. No love. No joy. Instead, it reminded her of those four walls she called her own home, where here parents would barely acknowledge her existence, more so now than usual, and where her existence would be left in the dark.

Her eyes trailed over to the Denbrough boy as he opened the door to his garage, and she wondered: was that how he felt whenever he was away from the rest of the gang? Alone? Isolated? Forgotten? Maybe he believed that, if he could find his younger brother, then everything would return back to normal. His parents would smile, the warmth in that home would return once again, things would become better.

It would be Heaven. A happy home, void of any nightmares or any Clowns. A home where everything was as mundane as could be, and that was how they yearned it to be.

What a happy place it would be.

Cassie snapped out of her idyllic daydreams as the sound of the garage opening pierced through her eardrums. As the rest of them scurried into the opening, the Hayes girl found herself standing there, almost mesmerized by the sensation of being alone in the sun. Although she could hear them talking, with a mixture of brief hesitation and a flicker of hope running through their voices, she found it hard to comply along with them.

She drew her hand over her bruised forehead, poking at the bandaged cut Bowers had left behind. She winced as she grazed it, almost feeling nostalgic as she recalled time and time again how she had ended up in similar confrontations in the past. Truth be told, she had a tendency to get into fights whenever someone pushed her limits, but this was different. This had been on behalf of someone else. _Friends_. People she genuinely cared about. People she wanted to protect. People she wanted to feel happy with, people she wanted would live long until old age claimed them.

But standing between them and that was a monster. The Clown, which were more or less the same things. Would she be able to keep them safe from _that_? Beating Bowers was one thing, but how the hell would she be able to stand on equal terms with some kind of demonic entity she could barely look at without freaking out on? Would she be able to do it?

"Hey, Cassie!" Beverly shouted at her from inside the garage, already comfortably (more or less) seated by the others. Deciding that it was time to take actions instead of pondering on what could or could not happen, Cassie hurried into the darkened space and pulled the garage door down, rendering the room even darker than before. Few curtain-covered windows made up for light-sources, and Bill had already set up a projector, which made it bright enough for her to see where she was walking. A map was placed on the wall, one she assumed displayed the current locations within Derry.

Cassie sat down next to Beverly and Ben, placed furthest into the corner of the crowd. Beverly offered her a sincere smile as Cassie accidentally bumped her shoulder into her, and for reasons unknown, Cassie found her cheeks warming up.

Bill placed one of the slides Ben had let him borrow, and up on the screen, Derry's sewer system appeared. It was a detailed map, highlighting every part of the system. It was complicated to follow at first, but after some quick glances, Cassie got a fair understanding of how it all worked together. The sewers were, in one way or the other, connected to all the marked places on the map.

"Those places," she began to inquire as she gestured to the marked spots. "They are where all those 'accidents' happened, right?"

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," Richie commented sardonically and rolled his eyes. "What else would they be? The places your parents get kinky?"

Stan rolled his eyes at the sight of his friend's unchanged immaturity. " _Beep, beep_ , Richie. Now's not a good time,"

But Bill seemed almost oblivious to the bickering that was happening in front of him. Instead, he pointed to the map, his voice quivering more now than before as he located the place where Georgie went missing. "Look, that's where G-G-Georgie disappeared." He struggled to maintain himself but succeeded nonetheless. Thinking back on that day, that rainy horrible day, never failed to make him question whether speaking was inappropriate or not. "There's the Ironworks and the Black Spot,"

Cassie didn't know why at first, but the longer she stared at the image of those places, the more she felt …. Familiar. Like she had ... seen them someplace before. Perhaps she had walked past them without acknowledging it, or maybe she had seen them in one of Ben's history books the day they visited him.

* * *

 _IT WAS EASTER, AND CHILDREN WERE RUNNING AROUND ON A SEARCH OF EASTER EGGS IN THE PARK. THEN CAME THE SOUND OF SCREAMS FROM THE IRONWORKS._

 _THERE WAS A LARGE BUILDING IN FRONT OF HER, BURNING WITH COUNTLESS SHRIEKSECHOING FROM INSIDE AND SMOKE ASCENDING UNTIL IT BLACKENED THE SKY._

* * *

 _THE NIGHTCLUB WAS BURNING, FEW PEOPLE MANAGED TO ESCAPE. SHE WAS LOCKED INSIDE, ALONE. THE SMOKE DESINTEGRATED HER LUNGS, RENDERING HER GASPING FOR AIR UNTIL THERE WAS NOTHING LEFT FOR HER TO INHALE. HER VISION WENT BLURRY, AND A BLACK BIRD WITH BALLOONS ATTACHED ON ITS WINGS COULD BE SEEN OUTSIDE THE WINDOW, WATCHING THE EVENT WITH A SINISTER GLEE IN ITS EYES._

* * *

"Cassie? Are you okay?"

Her eyes snapped open as the sound of Ben calling her name broke her out of her daydreaming. She looked over at the Hanscom boy with bewilderment plastered on her eyes like bandaids. "Sorry, was I gone or something?" she asked him, confused as to why she had suddenly felt like she just woke up from a nap.

"You looked … tired," he answered, concern evident in his tone.

But all Cassie could do was to readjust her focus and lean forward to get a better image of the map. Questions remained about what the hell happened to her, what the hell she saw. She had the attention-span the range of a teaspoon, but this sort of daydreaming was … disturbing, for a lack of better words. Her body felt cold as shivers ran up and down her spine, and it felt as though no amount of cozy blankets or coats could warm her up.

"Everywhere _IT_ happens, it's all connected by the sewers," Bill explained. "And they all meet up at the –"

"The Well-house," Ben concluded almost immediately, realization dawning upon him as it did with everyone else.

"Where is it?" Cassie asked, trying to shake off the cold. "Where the hell is that place?"

"It's in the house on Neibolt Street," Stan answered, looking hesitantly over at his friends.

Cassie instantly recognized that name, as well as the place. She had been there before, almost stepped into it for the sake of a thrill, and just now did she find out that it was the place where that fucked-up Ronald McDonald lived? She felt her stomach sink into the pits of her abdomen to the point where she felt like vomiting on the floor. "I think I know the place,"

"You mean that creepy-ass house where all the junkies and the hobos like to sleep?" Richie asked as though the answer was hard to find, which nobody knew whether was a deliberate act or not.

Beverly readjusted her position in her seat as she glanced back at the map, feeling cold as she recalled all those times she had walked past it while trying to avoid Greta on the way home from school. "I hate that place. It always feels like it's watching me."

"At least now we have a pretty authentic reason to avoid it even further," Cassie got up to her feet and breathed through her nose, feeling a heavy weight settle itself on her shoulders as she tried to recollect her thoughts. She didn't know why, but she was _scared_. Hell, she felt more scared now than she had ever done before, even the first time she actually encountered the clown. Her chest began to pound against her ribcages to the point where it felt like they were about to break through the bones.

But as frightened as she felt, she tried her best to keep her composure intact. She couldn't afford to act afraid, not now. As she turned back to the others, mouth open as she tried to shape her words, her eyes landed on top of Eddie, whose breathing-pattern was becoming considerably faster. He had pulled out his inhaler into his mouth in an attempt to try and calm himself, but it wasn't working.

"That's where I saw it," he croaked with what little stability he had left in his voice. Insignificant drops of sweat were forming on top of his forehead. "That's where I saw the clown,"

And their suspicions were finally affirmed.

"Tha-Tha-That's where _IT_ lives," Bill confirmed, vocalizing what all of them were thinking.

The Hayes girl easily noticed how color drained from their faces as they now understood where _Its_ whereabouts was located. Whether it provided them with an advantage or not, she couldn't easily tell. At one side, they now knew where it resided, making it possible to somehow – by some means – defeat it. On the other hand, it was a plan she doubted any one of would want to go through with.

It was a sentiment she shared with the rest of them.

Eddie took another puff with the inhaler, though, like the first time, it failed to improve his breathing.

"I can't imagine anything ever wanting to live there,"

Stan's last comment seemed to become the trigger that unleashed it all.

"Can we stop talking about this?!" Shaking uncontrollably like he was bellow freezing, Eddie got up to his feet and partially covered the screen behind him, casting a shadow over the light. His skin was beyond bleak at this point, and it was still a marvel his balance was retained. Everyone looked at him, equally concerned for his well-being as they were puzzled. It came as no surprise to anyone that he, most of all, was afraid. They all were, but he had a knack for expressing it more openly. None of them could blame him for it.

Eddie waved his inhaler as he ranted. "I-I-I can barely breathe! This is summer, we're kids – I can barely breathe – _I'M HAVING A FUCKING ASTHMA ATTACK_!"

Although she knew that his sense of dread could not be excused, this could not continue. Cassie stepped forward towards Eddie and placed both of her hands on his shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Eddie," she called him, her face restrained and equally sharp as she addressed him. Eddie looked at her briefly each time his pupils flickered over to her, as his state of panic seldom made it possible for him to focus. "We're all scared, but you need –"

"If you tell me to calm the fuck down, then I swear I'm going to –"

"Eddie, if It feeds on fear, then you're practically providing It with appetizers right now!" She hadn't meant to shout on him, nor was it intentional to sound angry. If anything, Cassie felt her own fear reeking of her, which was why she could not allow Eddie to make itself a target. The fear was what drew It, and right now, the last thing she wanted was for Eddie to become the next target.

Without warning, Eddie ripped himself out of her hold and threw his hands at the map. "I'm not doing this!" he shouted and threw it to the floor, leaving only the view of the sewer system intact.

"What the hell? Put the map back!" Bill demanded, but Eddie just shook his head defiantly.

That's when the weird shit started happening.

The lights from the projector began to flicker, changing the room's atmosphere between light and dark. Everyone looked over at the mechanism, curious as to what was causing to behave erratically. Cassie stepped back from the screen and closer to Beverly and Ben, suddenly finding herself feeling increasingly uneasy about the situation.

"Bill, what the fuck is going on with your machine?" she asked, not looking away from the screen.

But Bill was just as confused as her, with no answer to provide with as he looked down at the projector.

At first, there was nothing on the screen. Just whiteness.

Then, pictures. Pictures of Bill's family. Pictures of his brother, of his father, of various family vacations they had been on together throughout the years. Baseball, waterslides – happy times he could seldom remember due to the recent events of his brother's disappearance. Those were the times he could still look at his mother and father the same way, see them smile and laugh as they used to before, but couldn't anymore.

"W-What happened? What's going on?" he asked, causing Mike to step forward and try to fix the mechanism. Nothing he did, however, seemed to change its behavior. It just continued going off on its own. It constantly displayed pictures of Bill's family during the time when they were happy – before _It_ intervened and ruined it all.

The projector finally stopped at one picture in particular. It was taken one year ago, at his aunt's wedding. He recalled that day perfectly; the way the clouds were aligned, the warm sky that hit his face through the messy bangs his mother had tried to fix. Most of all, he remembered the joy he felt surging through his chest, being together with all of his family.

The picture then zoomed in at his brother, which struck Bill as a bullet to the chest to see him there so close. "G-Georgie," he whispered.

But then the projector continued to zoom in on Georgie's face. Again. Again. Again. Again. His brother's features became prominent, everything to the way his hair flickered in the wind to the wrinkles on his cheeks his smile produced.

"Bill?" Stanley looked over at his friend with his heart pounding a mile per minute. He wanted some kind of answer that could get even an inch closer to a plausible explanation, but he got none.

Then the focus on the screen began to change from Georgie to a woman Cassie could only assume was his mother. The pace began to quicken on the projector, closing in more and more on the woman's red locks. As if out of instinct, Cassie reached for both Ben and Beverly's arms and cautiously dragged them away from the screen.

And that's when they all noticed that it was no longer Bill's mother they were looking at. Her face began to change on the screen, her hair flickered as if in a movie, and a face came into view. A face they all knew too well to forget.

 _ **THE CLOWN.**_

 _ **PENNYWISE.**_

Cassie instantly covered her mouth with her hands, recalling her previous encounters with the inhuman monster. The memory of her mother's "suicide" still lingered fresh in her mind as though it had just happened yesterday. She remembered the blood soaking her floors, she remembered the horrible feeling of watching her mother's skin become pierced with the sharp blade that severed her throat. She felt like she wanted to throw up on the floor, but the fear she felt had paralyzed her internal organs to the brink of neglecting their purposes. Her lungs failed to expand, her heart skipped more than a few beats, her brain could not function.

She was **_AFRAI_** _ **D.**_

She was _**SO SO SO SO SO AFRAI**_ _ **D.**_

Stan, Richie, and Eddie backed up in the room, screaming at a volume beyond deafening. " _WHAT THE FUCK_?!" Richie screeched as he clung onto Eddie, demanding an explanation none in the room could provide. " _WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!"_

Eddie clutched onto Richie in return, holding onto him as though letting go could kill him. " _I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!"_

The flickering images started to reveal more and more of Its face, everything from the red and white make-up to that horrible overbite of Its. The longer they stared at it, the more they were consumed by the overall sensation of _**F E A R.**_ Beverly held her breath for a moment, processing the image of the same monster that had terrorized her and the rest, before she knew how to act. She snapped her head to Bill, and demanded, "Turn it off!

Although she was beyond petrified, Cassie grit her teeth and snapped her focus onto Bill as well. "Turn that _shit_ down!"

The rest of those who backed into the left corner of the room all joined in on the demand, but only Mike fulfilled the act. He rushed forward and kicked the projector down from the table, scattering the slides on the floor. Much to their chagrin, however, the machine didn't stop working as they had hoped to. Instead, the slides were now laying sideways, though the horrible clown was gone. It was preferable to what they had seen earlier, but it only lasted for a moment or so.

The lights continued to flicker, the distorted view of the clown came back. Cassie wanted to scream, to cry, to get the hell out of there, but her legs were frozen and not a single sound managed to escape her lips, much less a scream. She tried to breathe, but there was no air to get. She tried to speak, but there was no sound. She wanted to be tough, to step forward and stomp down on the damned thing until there was nothing left but scattered pieces. She was almost tempted to do it, but then the clown disappeared from the screen.

Everyone held their breaths (except for Eddie, who was gasping), silently praying to whatever God existed that It was gone.

Then _**I T**_ erupted from the screen.

Stanley, who was standing closest, ran as fast as he could before **_I T_** could manage to grab him.

Everything was in a state of utter chaos. The clown was inhumanely large, teeth large enough to chew them to pieces on the spot. If _**I T**_ had seemed threatening and scary before, then words could not describe how monstrous _**I T**_ appeared now. _**I T**_ s size could compare to that of the Paul Bunyan statue in the park, if not slightly smaller and a million times as scary.

 _ **I T**_ crawled towards them like a toddler incapable of walking, throwing _**I T**_ s clawed hands their way without ever touching any of them. None of them knew whether  
 _ **I T**_ was actively trying to catch them, or if _**I T**_ was just toying with _**I T**_ s food for the thrill of the hunt.

Predatory snarls and growls erupted from _**I T**_ s throat like a beast. The closer _**I T**_ got to them, the more delight _**I T**_ seemed to take. Cassie tried to reach the others and get the garage gate open, but the second her eyes flickered to the side, she noticed it.

 _ **I T**_ had backed Beverly into the corner, snarling at her with _**I T**_ s teeth on full display. Seeing her friend in danger, something sparked inside of Cassie. Whatever fear had once taken place in there seemed to vanish, and instead, _anger_ took a hold of her. Absolute fury.

 _"Get the fuck away from her, you son of a bitch!"_

By no means did she feel powerful enough to go up against _**I T**_ like an ant against a boot, but she needed a distraction.

Without even thinking, she reached for her shoe, took it off, and threw it straight at Its head.

The thing barely made an impact, but Its head jerked just slightly to the side, averting Its attention from the Marsh girl, as though surprised.

Instantly, _**I T**_ s head snapped towards the Hayes girl. _**I T**_ s yellow eyes met hers, and all fear returned to Cassie's body in a matter of milliseconds.

She had seen those eyes before, those sinister eyes of _**I T**_. She had seen them countless times before, _time and time and time and time and time again_ , but she didn't know where they came from.

Before the creature could make a move, a blinding light shone inside of the once-darkened garage and, as if the clown had never been there, _**I T**_ disappeared.

 _ **I T**_ was just … _gone_.


End file.
